Salt Skin
by Ava Miranda Dakedavra
Summary: Individual stories containing a tough, fearless witch and a gigantic hunter being cuddly and cute together. Kind of doing the 30 Day OTP Challenge but with Chapters replacing Days. Because I am inconsistent sometimes.
1. Holding Hands

**I'm doing the 30 Day OTP Challenge but instead of "Days" I'm going with "Chapters" so here ya go **

* * *

_Holding Hands_

"I've done some research and I've found that the ghost is attached to something in that house, or maybe the house itself, and we'll have to find and destroy it before the family gets back from out of town and gets extremely hurt. Considering you and Dean's history, I don't think this'll be _too_ morally corrupting for you."

She spoke softly and happily, looking through her notes with one hand, her other one tapping out some sort of pattern on the tabletop. Her hair was a dark, honey color and long, flowing to the middle of her back, curly and incredibly enticing. He'd met her in college before she quickly graduated, having been accepted sooner than him, despite them being the same age. During that short amount of time, he'd found out she was a witch, born with her powers and fighting against dark magic and dark people. He saw her scars when he'd crashed on her couch one night and she thought he was asleep, taking off her hoodie – well, really, his hoodie, that he never really did get back, come to think of it – to have her tank top rise up a little, showing him the fine lines and the word etched into her arm crudely.

She'd called him to help her with this case, as she was a paranormal investigator – actually, a hunter, although Dean said she wasn't – under the guise of needing his help, although she'd sounded happy and pleased on the phone and not as if she were finally making herself ask for anyone's help. They both knew that she just wanted to see him, but neither felt like acknowledging it, much like Sam with his small infatuation with her.

Really, it was all too easy. All he had to do was reach across the table and grab the hand that was tapping out the rhythm. Just slide over, hover for a moment to have her stop tapping, and then turn her hand over to the side and press his fingers into her palm. Simple. In theory.

"Here's your tea, Miss," a young girl said, sliding the paper cup to her and handing Sam his coffee. He gave a small pout when Hermione's hand took the cup and didn't return to the table.

* * *

"Their house is for rent while they're not living in it," Hermione whispered as she hurriedly rushed back to the car, a smiling, plump middle-aged woman on the sidewalk leading to the house, "I panicked and said you were my husband and we were looking for somewhere to stay because we just got married. What's our names?"

"Uhh – Orwell," he answered, making her frown at him dully.

"Is your first name going to be George, too?" she scoffed.

He gave her a small frown and she grinned as the realtor clicked her way up to them, offering Sam her hand.

"Hullo, I'm Serena McCarthage," she stated.

"Hello, I'm William Montague," Sam grinned as Hermione tried not to give him a glare. "This is my wife, Juliette."

"Oh, just like _Romeo and Juliet_!" Serena happily exclaimed.

"Yes, it's a very _funny_ – " Hermione shot Sam a glare as he looked rather smug " – coincidence. Ahh, may we see the house?"

Serena McCarthage gave them a tour of the house, the two glancing at one another when she told about the history. He really shouldn't have been itching to grab Hermione's hand, inches away from his own, just to see what they felt like if he laced his fingers in between hers. It would help portray the part, right? Newlywed couple, they wouldn't be able to keep their hands off of each other, right? Right. Right?

"Uhm, I think we'll take it," Hermione answered when they came back to the front door, "Can we come in tonight?"

"Of course, of course!" Serena happily exclaimed, "We'll just sign paperwork and – "

"Oh, would you mind sending that to us? We have quite a lot of packing to do, our lease is up tonight, but we'll go out to the car and write you a check," Hermione smiled prettily, charmingly, trying to convince the realtor, her eyes sparkling a different color.

"Oh, well…I suppose, because of the circumstances," she hesitated, probably confused by whatever charm Hermione had used, before smiling brightly, "I'll be by tomorrow afternoon with the papers."

"Brilliant," Hermione grinned back before Sam smiled as well and tugged her to the car, both of them happily talking about the house until they were out of earshot.

"So, I guess we're going to be spending the night in a haunted house?" Sam asked as Hermione sat in the passenger seat of her own car and whispered out different spells and charms, changing the name and bank on the check before scribbling the amount and handing it to Sam for him to sign in a completely different hand than his own.

"Looks like it," she sighed, standing and heading back to the realtor as Sam got in the driver's side, waiting behind the wheel as Hermione got the key, practically dancing her way back to the car.

* * *

"We should get a Ouija board. Get some popcorn. It'd be a slumber party."

Hermione snorted from the couch, hair tied up messily, wearing a baggy faded hoodie and some leggings, a thick book in her lap. Sam grinned and sat in the floor in front of her, leaning against the cushion as he watched whatever eighties' movie he'd flicked it to. He heard her shifting, the book being tossed onto the coffee table in front of him, before he felt light, gentle fingers run absentmindedly through his hair. He swallowed hard, tried to remember how to breathe, and forcefully relaxed. "Do you want me to stop?" she asked.

"No," he practically sighed, shutting his eyes, trying not to think of how easy it would be to reach up, take her hand, bring it around and kiss the back of it before playing with her fingers.

She chuckled, weaving her fingers through the strands, "Just don't fall asleep. We've got a ghost to get rid of."

Sam made a noncommittal hum; sighing deeply as her nails lightly grazed his scalp, head tilted back.

* * *

"Well, we got out alive, and that's what matters," Hermione said happily, despite the fact that the rain was coming down in sheets and that her car wouldn't start, walking down the deserted road with him, the hoodie sagging around her shoulders, making Sam fidget and begin to offer his jacket again. "I mean, yeah, the house accidentally caught fire, but hey – William and Juliette Montague could've died in it. Great cover story!"

Sam looked past his dripping hair at her and smiled, watching as she danced around puddles and gave little twirls, looking quite happy. She walked along next to him for a few moments, both of them silent from the ordeal, before she reached over and grasped his hand, weaving her fingers in between his, smoothing her thumb over the side of his hand, soft skin moving against rough. She reached up on her toes, tugging on his shoulder to make him lean down a little, and pecked his cheek, blushing as she bit her lower lip when he blinked down at her in surprise. "I've kind of wanted to do this all week."

Sam smiled and released her hand, only to open his jacket and bring her in to his side, not caring that his side was getting wet as she blinked back at him. He kissed the top of her head, smiling brightly. "I have too."

* * *

***Throws confetti in the air because we all survived the first chapter. Except that ghost. But it was already dead to begin with.***


	2. Cuddling Somewhere

**_"If I kiss you where it's sore, if I kiss you where it's sore, will you feel better, better, better, will you feel better, better, better, will you feel anything at all?"_**

**There's a lot in here that talks about _The Fault in Our Stars_ by John Green. If you'd rather not talk about it (or, better yet, have it spoiled) then please skip this chapter until you have come to terms with it (or have read the book) (and you have to read the book) (it's a whole different level of pain and tears) (it's so good I can't wait to re-read it)(I'm going to read it to my children and they're going to be sobbing and going 'why Mom why') (it'll be like a rite of passage)**

* * *

_Cuddling Somewhere_

It started out as a prickling in her eyes, causing her to blink upwards and force them away. But it kept coming. She sniffed and inhaled deeply and rubbed at her eyes before the tears started. They started slowly, drop after drop, but soon she was sobbing, elbows on knees, face buried in her arms, wrists loose as her fingers rested somewhere in her hair. She gave loud, guttural sobs, a crack making itself known in her heart.

He was gone. He was gone and he wasn't coming back and she couldn't fix it.

There was a knock at her door. Shit, someone actually heard her. She sucked in her sob and quickly wiped at her face as someone opened her door and blinked at her state before shutting the door behind him and moving to sit on her bed next to her, rubbing her back as she tried to keep more tears from coming.

"Hermione," he began, calmly and quietly, "What's wrong?"

"I just – and he can't – I couldn't…." This is why she hated crying. She could never explain what was wrong to the extent of her thoughts and feelings in her head. She could never convey how much something hurt her, although those few that knew her well enough knew it had to be extremely bad to make her shed even one tear. She took several deep breaths and he ran his fingers through her hair.

"Hermione," Sam smiled a little, "Why are you crying over a book? Is everything okay?"

That last word caused her to cry again, hiding her face in her hands, Sam wrapping his arms around her and burying his face in her hair, "Augustus Waters! He – he wrote – he wrote to him a-and then he wrote the eulogy f-for her and h-he just loved her so-oh much, Sam, a-and she loved him ba-ack and they had Anne Frank's house a-and they were – she – and dying but you didn't _know when_ and you didn't know _who_ and _it was him!_"

"I don't understand what you just said, but I understand that it must have been a very good book to have you literally sobbing over it," Sam chuckled as Hermione buried her face into him and attempted to calm herself down.

"Very good. You need to read it. And if you tell me you didn't cry, I won't believe you," she insisted as he laid down on her bed, keeping her pulled against his chest, sighing happily before he pecked her head. She wiped away more tears, breathing deeply, wrapping her arms around him before settling her chin on his chest and looking up at him. "So. What's up?"

"Nothing," he hummed, closing his eyes, letting whatever her shampoo smelled like to settle into his clothes. "Just felt like seeing you."

"So you drove how many miles to see me, just because you 'felt' like it?" she questioned.

Sam grinned a little, kissing her head, "I had Dean drop me off."

She shifted a little, looking up at him worriedly, "What's going on?"

He smiled and kissed her, bringing her in closer, lowering his forehead to hers, "Nothing." He kissed her again, "I love you."

She watched him carefully for a few moments before smiling back, "Love you too." She dropped the smile and edged away a little, making Sam look at her curiously as they both sat up, "Sam, honestly, what's going on?"

Sam looked her over. She'd cried over a book character dying. He hated to see how hard she would cry if she discovered that _he_ was dying and they didn't know when. So instead he smiled, shook his head, and rolled his eyes, "Honestly, Hermione, stop being so paranoid. Nothing's wrong, everything's fine." And in that moment, it really was. Because he was there, with her, and everything was fine when he was with her.

Hermione frowned at him for a few more moments before sighing, moving forward and sitting in his lap, burying her face in his chest, loving the earthy smell he always had. "Honestly, can you blame me for being paranoid? I always worry about you."

"I'll be fine, Hermione," he murmured, smoothing back her hair, pressing his lips to the top of her head, trying to push away his anxiety of leaving her alone. "I promise."

* * *

******Wow, that quickly became sad. Hmm. I'll try to steer clear of that from now on.**


	3. Gaming

**I don't really play a lot of action-y video games nor do I watch a lot of action-y movies unless I'm with my dad. But Mario Kart is a game where your friendships are tested. That, and Monopoly. **

* * *

_Gaming_

"No, no, no-no-no-no-no, no! Fuck! Where did the fucking banana peel come from?"

Hermione laughed loudly, trying very hard to keep Yoshi from going off the road. She, Dean, and Sam had drove into a new town, exhausted and wiped, when they'd ran into someone she knew from her time at college. She was going away for a couple of weeks and had a very large house that the three were welcome to use, so long as nothing was damaged or 'misplaced.' So, here they were, Dean sleeping off his night out from last night, Hermione and her – it felt weird calling him her boyfriend, it sounded so juvenile, and most of the time they were anything _but_ juvenile, but it was true. Dean had seen them tiptoeing around one another and locked them inside Bobby's library for two days. It had enough runes and charms that Hermione couldn't get either of them out. Plus, it'd helped that he'd snuck her wand away and replaced it with a gag one that George had given him "in case of emergencies." Anyway, here they both were, sitting on an old college friend's couch in – fuck, was it Indiana or Illinois? – playing Mario Kart.

"You put that there last round," Hermione answered his earlier question, grinning when she passed him and when he began to lean into her, attempting to throw her off.

"Come on, no, you can't even drive in America, this isn't fair," he said all of this with a grin, glad that he got to spend time with her, regardless of how he got to do so. "Fucking game!"

Hermione laughed louder as he tossed the controller on the other end of the sectional, as Luigi had rolled off the road and Yoshi had gotten into first place, nearly winning. "Too bad I'm going to win."

"No, you're not," Sam snapped out of playfully pouting, leaning over her, tickling her and making her drop the controller somewhere, curling up against his chest as he carefully maneuvered to settle her on the couch and hover over her. He grinned at her as she laughed, kissing the tip of her nose, his arms wrapped around her, "You lose."

"I hardly consider this losing," she chuckled, smiling wider when he kissed under her jaw, his own grin pressed into her skin.

"Would it be weird having sex in your friend's house?" he murmured, meeting her eye to eye and smiling when he saw her biting her lip.

"Ehh," she shrugged, bringing him closer with smiles on the both of them, "We weren't that close."

Sam chuckled and kissed her deeply, making a noise in the back of his throat, pulling away and reaching underneath him to find that his knee had come into contact with the little steering wheel. Hermione laughed, making him laugh as well.

With all the crap they went through, sometimes it was nice being juvenile.

* * *

**_Far_**** happier than last chapter, in my opinion.**


	4. On A Date (Sorta)

**_"Why don't you be the artist and make me out of clay? Why don't you be the writer and decide the words I say? 'Cause I love to pretend that I'll still be there in the end. Only it's too hard to ask, will you try to help me?"_**

**I really like the episode where Dean gets in touch with his fatherly side and his childhood while Sam gets the shit beat out of him by killer clowns. Clowns freak me the fuck out because of Supernatural now. (Like they didn't already *snort*)**

* * *

_On A Date_

"So you didn't hear anything last night?" Sam questioned, regarding the manager rather coldly as police puttered around the children's area, Hermione clicking her way coolly over to him.

"I just heard the ball pit vacuum before I went home," the manager, Jean, answered, rather nervously before her eyes flicked over to Hermione and then back to Sam. "You don't really think I could've done this, do you?"

Sam opened his mouth to state that yes, he did think she could've done this, when Hermione's hand settled on his shoulder and she gave a slight shake of her head, her curly brown hair twisting with her.

"We don't believe you did, ma'am, but there's an awful lot of blood," Hermione began, her British accent lilting and soothing, making some of the muscles in Sam's shoulders relax, even though he hadn't been aware that they were tensed. "We just want to find out what happened to the janitor, and if there's any possible way his death could be connected to the other deaths in this town." It was somewhat of the truth, leaving out any of the little abnormal aspects they had to consider in their jobs.

"Right," the manager nodded before Sam spoke again.

"My partner and I would like to interrogate your employees, if you don't mind," Sam stated, "Do you have somewhere here we could use to save everyone the trouble of going to the station?"

"Uhm, the break room," she answered, pointing to a door that seemed to be part of the scenery for the kids.

"We'd appreciate it if you made a list of your employees and didn't alert or alarm anyone," Hermione said, "If this was caused by someone, we don't want them running, or worse – harming one of the children."

"Of course," she said shakily, moving to get them a list as Hermione and Sam moved to the room, shutting the door behind them and giving loud sighs.

"Merlin, that was a lot of blood," Hermione said, running a hand down her neck anxiously before looking worriedly at Sam as he rested his head against the wall and took deep breaths. "Sam? Are you alright? Is it the clown thing?" She said it fearfully, not as if she were amused by it, like Dean would've. He opened his eyes and she was closer, rubbing his arm, and he swallowed before grimacing a little.

"It's the clown thing," he answered before shaking his head, "I'll be fine, promise. D'you want to do good cop bad cop?"

"It is always easier with another person, isn't it?" she teased, sitting on the table the room provided, smirking up at him as he stepped closer and placed his hands on either side of her hips, a similar smirk on his own face as he leaned nearer, noses brushing. "Hey. We're extremely fancy FBI agents. No snogging on the job. Our 'higher-ups' would be mad. Plus it's extremely unprofessional."

"Screw professionalism, I haven't gotten laid in three months," he huffed as she chuckled, kissing his chin.

"Poor Sam, having an awful fiancé who won't sleep with him again until after the wedding," she chuckled, wrapping her arms around his neck, "Tell you what. Once all of this is fixed up, we'll go on a real, proper date."

"Have we ever been on one of those before?" he asked with a  
wide grin.

She chuckled and pressed her lips to his, pulling away and smirking as she hopped off of the table and fixed his tie a little, "And, who knows? Maybe afterwards I'll be the bad cop." Sam's eyes widened before he gave a rather predatory grin and gave a low growl, making her giggle, kiss the tip of his nose, and move away before the door could open.

* * *

"Dean!"

Dean snapped out of trying to explain to a kid how rough his mother had it when he saw Sam and Hermione chasing after – was that a fucking lion? – and quickly ran as well, coming to a stop only when he leapt out and tackled the bastard to the sidewalk, Hermione leaning against a wall and cursing, taking off the heels and using one to point threateningly at the lion, breathing heavily as Sam slowed.

"I swear, it was my brother's meth lab who blew up! We just share an uncanny resemblance!" the lion exclaimed, wiggling, Hermione chucking a heel at his head.

"You made me fucking run in heels and a skirt over a bloody _meth lab?_" she yelled, glaring at him before scooping up the discarded heel and walking past Sam, decidedly shorter than she had been with the heels. "You take him. I'll probably murder the poor sod."

"Then don't wear heels! You know we'll have to run, why wear heels?" Dean called after her.

"Because the rest of you are so much bloody taller than me, I hate having to look up!" she called back, slipping the shoes back on her feet, shaking her head as she walked back to Plucky's.

* * *

"Jesus Christ, Sam, you look like you got attacked by a PCP crazed stripper," Dean stated with a wide grin as Hermione sucked in a breath and pursed her lips, eyes wide as Sam trudged his way over to them, covered from head to toe in glitter.

He shrugged and spread his arms out, looking very accepting, "Go ahead. Laugh. Make your jokes."

Hermione finally began to chuckle, leaning against the trunk of the Impala as Dean gleefully took him up on his offer, opening his mouth before Hermione hit the upside of his head and sighed, shaking her head. It'd been a long day. She'd been glad that Dean had thrown that picture of Howard's brother into the fire, but it was extremely gruesome and rather sad in the manner of which he died. All she really wanted was to shove Dean into his own motel room, cuddle up with Sam with something that tasted good, and try to get the memory out of her head. Preferably after she got the glitter off of him. She couldn't take him seriously with it all over him.

Sam reached a hand into his bag and pulled out a large, rainbow Slinky, making Dean light up and gape at him as Hermione watched the brothers fondly.

"You got me a rainbow Slinky?" he asked, somehow making the statement sound manlier than it really was.

"We _earned_ that," Sam insisted, glancing to Hermione. She fooled herself into thinking he left money on the counter, when she had a very good idea that he didn't. "I know how much you wanted one when we were kids."

"Thanks, man," Dean said as he took the Slinky, still in its plastic casing, before he reached into his own pocket, "Look, man, I'm sorry I traumatized you with clowns when we were kids."

"Nah, it's fine, I think I'm over it," he shrugged, Hermione staying silent and grinning a little.

"Well, to make up for it…." The grin dropped and she cussed the older Winchester as Dean dropped the little clown doll into his brother's hand, watching as his eyes widened and he pursed his lips. "What? I thought you were over it?"

Sam didn't say anything and just glared, pointing at the Impala, "Get in your car and leave."

Dean grinned, winking to Hermione as she frowned dully at him, moving the driver's side as Sam turned to her, tossing the clown on the ground.

"I've earned it, 'normal' date or not," he stated as she giggled, smiling up at him.

"I'm sorry, but I can't take you seriously with glitter all over you," she winced apologetically, getting off of the Impala as it started up, attempting to wipe some off of his face, only ending up getting it on her hand. "We can have the 'normal' date later, I don't mind." She waited until the Impala turned the corner before she smiled and wiped the glitter off of his lips, kissing him quickly, "I can still be bad cop though."

He sighed, walking with her to get away from the clown doll, an arm around her shoulders, "I love you."

"I love you too," she smiled, settling into his side, "You're not over the clown thing, are you?"

"Hell no, that was just to get him to shut up about it," he admitted as she laughed.

* * *

**I wanted to add in the 'a payphone Frank I'm getting the clap just from touching this' but then that would bring in the Leviathans and I just wanted a happy chapter without bringing that up. **

**Also, Ellie Goulding songs work well for Hermione/Winchester brother pairings. **


	5. Kissing

**I don't like writing about kissing because it's awkward as hell for me to write.**

**Also I had to remove the word 'badass' from my summary. Y'know, we have these things called FILTERS. I rate things 'T' because I curse a lot. Besides, there are numerous other stories that have cussing in their summaries. Even in their fucking titles! In fact, with some, that's all their titles are! But what-the-fuck-ever. **

* * *

_Kissing_

He wasn't staying long. That was a very well-known fact. They were only in town to settle a werewolf problem and then they would be out again before they knew it. His dad and Dean were working on it – well, Dean was partly working on that, partly taking care of his little brother. Sam was thirteen – should've been perfectly capable of taking care of himself, especially considering he was raised as a hunter. He knew how to shoot and how to take care of anything that was running towards him. But, point being, he wasn't staying long. And neither was she. After this, they would part ways and never see each other again.

She was smart, and funny, and rather mischievous. He would catch her looking over at him weird, as if wondering if he were _really_ there or if she imagined him. She was in America, visiting her aunt and uncle while her parents were at some dental convention. She would be gone soon.

She was pretty, for being a couple of months younger than him, turning thirteen when she was at her boarding school. She had thick, curly brown hair that she would fidget with when a couple of people would look at her oddly. She had a great laugh and could occasionally be bossy, but he kind of liked it.

They were sitting on the swing set in the park. They'd stopped talking a while ago and would just sit there, swinging idly back and forth. He could do it. All he had to do was lean forward and place his mouth – err, somewhere. Cheek, forehead – which would count as his real first kiss?

"I'm leaving tomorrow," she said simply, out of the blue, gripping the chains a little tightly, "I kind of want to stay."

"But you've got your boarding school," he said, sounding incredibly understanding.

"Yeah," she sighed, shoulders slumping, "And my parents."

"Yeah," he agreed. They were silent again before he tilted his head, "You'll – erm…e-mail, right? When you aren't at school?"

She smiled back, "Yeah, of course. You can leave me e-mails and I'll check them all when I get back for Christmas break, yeah?"

He smiled, "Yeah."

"Hermione, love! You need to pack!" Hermione's aunt called, somewhere down the road, as the park was close to her house.

Hermione and Sam both stood, fidgeting a little, unsure of how to end this.

"Er, I could walk you back, if you want," he offered.

"Oh, no, it's fine, Sam," she said before she bit her lower lip, grabbing the front of his shirt and towing him down a little to kiss him lightly on the lips, pulling away a little dazedly with a small smile on her face. "Bye!"

"Bye," he might've mouthed, or whispered, or yelled it, he didn't know – his brain wouldn't work. She waved and walked back to her aunt's, Sam's mouth finally quirking up into a grin.

* * *

Her nails clawed at his hand, pressing her heels into his chest, trying to push him off as she attempted to breathe. She growled, freezing a little when Dean appeared over his shoulder with a shotgun pointed at her.

"Worst – trip – _ever,_" she panted, trying to adjust her body to get more air, "Let go, you bloody bastard."

"Not until you tell us why you've been charming the locals," Sam insisted, getting a strange sort of satisfaction from seeing her gasp for air, pinned against a brick wall in an alley.

She arched an eyebrow at him, "What the hell, I literally _just_ got here, you saw me pop into here, how the hell would I have been able to 'charm' the locals?"

"Uhm…what?" he questioned.

"I'm here visiting my _aunt_ – the only ruddy family I have left – and as soon as I pop into America, I get pinned to a wall and cho-oked," she clawed at his hand again. "What's happening with the locals?"

"Uhm…they're eating each other after sex," Dean said, lowering the shotgun a centimeter, "Like, really, Hannibal Lecter type of shit."

She struggled against Sam's grip, dropping her legs and blinking rapidly. "If you'd let go, just a smidge, I'd answer that," she answered breathily, Sam releasing his grip on her a little, free hand pushing her shoulder into the wall. "Maybe a rogue cupid or something going crazy. I could ask Luna – she could probably imagine several creatures that would do that sort of thing."

"What do you think, Dean?" Sam questioned.

"Let the witch _breathe_," she suggested, still gripping his hand.

"I'll call Castiel, see what he thinks on the cupid thing," Dean said, waving his shotgun to her, "Don't kill her just yet. We could see how useful she'd be."

"Then let the witch _breathe_," she begged again, Sam rolling his eyes and removing his grip on her, having her drop to the ground and clutch her throat, gulping down air. "Thanks," she breathed, shaking just a little as Sam grabbed the shotgun from his brother and aimed it at her. She arched an eyebrow before shaking her head, slowly pulling something out of her pocket and handing it to him. "It's my wand. I can't do much without it. Take it. I won't hurt you or anyone, I promise." Sam blinked at her, slowly reaching forward to pluck it from her grasp, settling it in his back pocket, keeping the shotgun aimed on her as she leaned against the wall and gathered her breath.

"Your aunt – she a witch too?" he questioned.

"No, no, I'm the only one in my family," she said.

"So who taught you how to get powers?" he wondered.

"What?" she questioned, tilting her head to the side. If she wasn't a witch, he might've thought she was cute.

"You know, you don't just figure it out on your own – someone has to teach how you to do the ritual," he insisted.

She blinked back at him, "What ritual?"

He lowered the shotgun completely, staring back at her as Dean argued with Castiel, "Uhm. The one that got you your powers?"

She shook her head slowly, both eyebrows arched, "I didn't do a ritual. I was born with powers. I went to a boarding school to learn how to control them. Went through a war, people tried to kill me and others for being from a normal, non-magical family, got all of that mess sorted out across the pond, came over here to cry into my aunt's shoulder. Got choked by a freakishly tall American with a trigger happy brother as soon as I came over."

She blinked when another man in a tan trench coat appeared inches from Dean's face, phones held to both of their heads before the other man stated, "I'm going to hang up now."

Dean looked at him dully, "Alright, Cas." Castiel lowered his phone and continued to stare expectantly at Dean, "So, what do you think about the cupid thing?"

"Cupids are usually very peaceful, loving creatures," he said, tilting his head, "Although it wouldn't be impossible. Where did you come to the conclusion of cupids?" He pointed to the young woman sitting against the wall, hands massaging her reddened throat. Castiel blinked before giving a curt nod, "Miss Granger. Pleasure to finally meet you."

The brothers glanced between each other as the girl blinked before nodding back, "The pleasure is mine."

"Uhh, Cas, who and what is she?" Sam questioned, "She's not the kind of witch we usually deal with."

"Because the witches in America are different from the kinds in the rest of the world," Castiel stated simply, "God gave them a gift – the ones in America bargained for their powers. She is good, we may trust her. She is, after all, a war heroine."

The woman blushed and shook her head, trying to get the man to stop talking.

"She told the truth?" Dean blinked.

"Of course," he furrowed his brows, "She is good. She saved the – "

"No, no, don't tell them," she insisted, standing and slapping her hands over the angel's mouth, standing on her toes to reach, "Please, whoever you are, do _not_ tell them all that I've been through. Please?" Castiel slowly nodded, making her sigh and remove her hands as he tilted his head.

"May I please call you by your given name?"

She arched an eyebrow, "Full or first?"

"Whichever you prefer," he said.

She gave a small smile, "First name is fine. Can I help you boys with this? I may be more useful than you believe."

"Of course," Castiel answered before Dean or Sam could decline. "It would be an honor to work with you."

She blushed and fidgeted with her hair, grimacing, "Please, stop acting like that. Just treat me like an everyday, run of the mill, person, alright? Because that's all I am."

"Sort of," Sam pointed out, making her laugh. Damn, her laugh was cute. Witches should not be cute, no matter where they came from.

* * *

"There is a fat man in a diaper hugging my brother," Sam murmured as the woman clapped a hand over her mouth to stifle her laughter, "I wish I had a camera."

"You and me both," she giggled before the man looked up and lit up, advancing towards them and hugging them both, miraculously lifting both her and Sam off of their feet.

"You two have finally found each other!" he exclaimed happily, swinging them around a little, "After all of these years, through heartbreak, you've found your other halves!"

"Excuse you!" the woman sputtered, wiggling her way out of the hug, Sam jumping away as soon as possible as well, "Just what the bloody hell are you going on about?"

The man blinked before looking as if he were near tears, "You don't remember each other?"

Sam arched an eyebrow over at her as she blinked back at him before he turned slowly to the man, Dean and Castiel watching on curiously.

"You were each other's first kiss! So romantic!" he gushed as Sam and her took several steps back.

"No, no, you must be mistaken," the woman insisted, "Because the boy _I_ kissed was sweet and nice and would never in a million years pick me up by my neck and pin me to a wall."

But Sam was gaping openly at her, tilting his head before he cautiously asked, "Hermione?"

She looked back and blinked, "Sam?"

Dean finally spoke up, a grin tugging on his mouth, "So _you're_ the British chick that took my brother's lipginity?"

"Holy shit!" Hermione exclaimed, blinking at him, "What the hell?"

"It's fate!" Cupid exclaimed happily, the two turning to him and vehemently stating "_no._" Dean, on the other hand, was cackling away.

"God does have plans for you two," Castiel stated simply as they turned slowly on the angel.

"What _kind_ of plans?" she questioned.

He glanced between the two, opening his mouth before shutting it again, "You'll be angry."

"We promise, we won't," Sam attempted to soothe while Hermione bit the inside of her cheek.

"You're going to get married and have babies!" Cupid happily exclaimed. In the next second, Hermione and Sam were both blushing and denying it fervently, while Dean was leaning against the wall and laughing so hard that there were tears in his eyes.

"Best Valentine's Day _ever_," he insisted, wiping his eyes before standing and getting back to the case.

* * *

"So, uhm, thanks for your help, and everything," Sam said, standing with her in the park they had been in when they were kids.

"Thanks for not killing me when you had the chance," Hermione smiled back, swinging back and forth lightly, staying seated while he stood in front of her.

"Uhm…nice seeing you again," he said.

"You too," she nodded.

"Uhh…look, Hermione, if you ever want to help, you could always – " he began before she grinned.

"I'll get it from Castiel," she said. "If you ever need help, just have Angel Boy call me."

"Right," he nodded, turning slightly before he heard her stand and call him back. He came back, standing in front of her as she reached her arms around behind his back, making him blush lightly before she took her arms back and grinned cheekily at him, holding her wand up.

"You had my wand," she smirked, "I couldn't let you keep that, could I?"

"Oh, err, right, sorry," he said.

"No harm," she smiled, tying her hair up and having her wand hold it in place, exposing a fine scar traveling the length of her neck. She looked up at him, so much shorter than she was when they were kids, tilting her head up at him. "Talk to you soon?"

He grinned. She was cute, regardless of being a witch. "Yeah. I'll text you when Dean is being insufferable."

She chuckled, "I'll talk to you tonight then."

He laughed and turned, moving through the park, turning and waving to her, "Bye."

"Bye," she might've mouthed, whispered, or yelled it. Her brain didn't quite work yet. She sat back on the swing, shutting her eyes and remembering when she'd been a kid. With a very big grin, she opened her eyes and began to swing, kicking her legs against the ground.

* * *

**I only watch whatever episodes pop up and then they disappear back into the void. I should really start it on Netflix, but hey, then I'd get _really_ distracted.**


	6. Wearing Each Other (Sam's) Clothes

**If I had a boyfriend he would never get his hoodies or sweaters or anything back. I fucking love huge, baggy stuff and if it smells like someone I love then hell yeah, I'm keeping it. **

**Also I'm trying to stay two chapters ahead in case I need to update quickly because _fuck, school started._**

* * *

_Wearing Each Other's Clothes_

Sam was very tall. It was a universally recognized fact. He was taller than his older brother, he was taller than Bobby, he was taller than his father, he was taller than Castiel, he was just tall, it felt like he always had been. Hermione was rather short, compared to Sam. This was also a universally recognized fact. She was shorter than Dean, she was shorter than Bobby, she supposed she would be shorter than John, she was shorter than Castiel, and she was okay with it most days. These were the boys that cared about her and would protect her should she need it, they could ruffle up her hair affectionately and call her "Shorty" all they wanted. She cracked tall jokes all the time about them, it was only fair, and they all knew when to back off before the line was crossed.

Still, she'd always had a soft spot for Sam, even before they started dating. And Sam had a soft spot for Hermione, and it was a sweet relationship most of the time. Sometimes during the night, they'd sneak into each other's rooms. They'd survived the Apocalypse, nobody cared if they slept in the same bed. Sam sure as hell deserved it, having someone who cared about him as much as Hermione did, and seeing as Hermione wouldn't really open up about her past to anyone other than Sam, they decided the same.

But the cute thing about Hermione that only Sam knew was that she would steal his hoodies. He only had a few, and would usually leave them on the floor of her room, but then he would never see them again. At first he thought it was some weird ghost or someone playing a prank on him until he and Dean left on a hunt with Bobby and Castiel and he'd walked straight to Hermione's room at two in the morning and found her wearing his jacket when she slept.

"Babe," he said as he crawled into bed with her, her eyes flickering open before she smiled and leaned into him, "I've _got_ to ask."

"Hmm?" she hummed sleepily.

"What's with you stealing my jackets?" he questioned and she grimaced, wincing and freezing while he chuckled and rubbed her back.

"They're warm and they smell like you, okay?" she blushed, burying her face into his chest, "Just – go to sleep, Sam."

He chuckled and kissed her before wrapping his arms around her and burying his face into her hair. "Alright. Love you."

She hummed, already ready to go back to sleep, but still murmured out, "Love you too."

He never did get any of his jackets back, but he couldn't complain. They looked _really_ cute on her.

* * *

**Sam cannot wear Hermione's clothes because they will not fit. And that's awkward. **


	7. Cosplaying

**I'm kind of taking this from another Supernatural/HP story I'm working on but that's Dean and Hermione and I haven't even gotten to this part yet.**

* * *

_Cosplaying_

"I can't – breathe," Hermione gasped, gripping into the chair, nails scratching along the wood as the pressure increased.

"That's just the corset talking, sweetie," the woman, not much older than her, explained, giving yet another sharp tug that sent Hermione panting, glaring a little at the gawking boys. They'd been called in by an elderly woman who had some disgruntled spirits in her house, all of them having some tie or relation to a woman who looked exceptionally like Hermione, her name being Catherine Bishop. They'd caught a glimpse of Catherine's husband, Eli, when Hermione had touched the piano, but then that was gone. The Ghost Facers – who had seen Dean and Sam and eagerly tagged along – said that it was because she wasn't dressed correctly. So, Dean had called in a favor from Katelyn, a 'cosplayer' who sold her creations, and happily settled Hermione in a steampunk outfit, taking out a few gears and cogs. So far, Hermione had been stuffed in a white cotton flimsy dress with off-shoulder sleeves and had the corset tightened around her waist and chest, leaving her panting and grimacing as Katelyn paid no mind and laced her up.

"What if – I have to – run?" Hermione gasped.

"Don't worry, Sammy will save you," Dean teased as Hermione opened her eyes and glared at the older Winchester, well aware that the Ghost Facers were filming her in a rather undressed state.

"My eyes are not on my chest, Winchester, look _up_," she demanded, Sam clearing his throat and fidgeting, looking anywhere _but_ her. "So, what's the plan? I just stand there and you shoot him with salt?"

"Try to see if you can get any information out of him – he doesn't seem to be angry around you, but we need to find out where he's buried, as well as the rest of the family," Sam answered, staring at a chandelier above her head.

"Does he even realize he's dead?" Hermione questioned, gasping when Katelyn gave another tug. "Don't corsets displace organs? I read somewhere that it – ahh – pushed reproductive organs – ohh – lower."

"Shush, your reproductive organs will stay right where they are," Katelyn admonished, "I'm not lacing that tight."

"Then my heart goes out to the ladies of history – Mary of the Scots had the right idea," Hermione panted before huffing airily, "Why can't I wear my bra?"

"Because, it'll show through."

Hermione's lips pursed and her eyes widened as Dean gave a cheeky grin and Sam turned a little bit redder. "And _why_ will it show through?"

"Because your dress is hella tight," Katelyn grinned with Dean, finishing lacing her corset and moving around to tug on the front lacing, trying to give her a little bit of room to breathe. "You'll have an outer corset too, but it's just for decoration. I didn't want the fabric to poof out of it when I made it."

"Catherine's sister and niece died before her and her husband, they should all be buried in the same cemetery," Sam answered her earlier question.

"I feel really light headed," Hermione said, shutting her eyes and wobbling a little.

"Well, they had fainting rooms for a reason, dear," Katelyn said, carefully extracting her from the chair, having her hold her arms out in front of her.

"Thriller, thriller night," Hermione hummed, making Katelyn, Sam, and Dean chuckle. Katelyn had her step into the light blue material, bringing it around her arms and tugging it up, off-shouldered but long sleeved, zipping her up before hiding the small amount of metal and pinning the outer corset on her, smoothing down the long flowing skirt as Hermione took deep, slow breaths. She wrapped a frilly choker around her neck, guiding her to a chair to work on her hair and makeup.

"So, okay, who's going to get this stuff off of her?" Katelyn asked as she brushed Hermione's hair, "I've got to get to a convention in ten hours; it'll take me that long to drive there and set up. I'll be there for seven days, and by that time if she isn't unlaced, she will probably commit suicide. And if you cut this off of her, I will charge you. _Big time._"

"Not Dean," Hermione insisted right as he began to open his mouth.

"Uhh, we'll volunteer," the Ghost Facers said rather exuberantly.

"You know what, never mind, I'll get out of it myself," Hermione said as she threw them a sharp glare, "I'd rather not have anyone else see more of me than I'd like anyway."

"Even if it's Sammy?" Dean asked innocently, laughing when his brother reached up and smacked him, Hermione glaring at them as Katelyn began to pin her hair up.

"Alright, sweetheart, this is where I leave you," Katelyn stated as she packed up her things and Hermione examined her appearance in a mirror, Sam and Dean standing behind her and watching in amusement as she pursed her lips at her reflection. "If you have any questions, concerns, favors, or just want to chat, give me a call," she smiled, offering a card to Hermione, who took it and held her hand, as she couldn't really hug her. "Bye boys! Stay out of trouble!"

"Yeah, yeah," Dean scoffed, waving her away before he turned to Hermione and frowned down at her, "Are you sure you can handle this? We don't know what this ghost is going to do."

"I am laced up, in a corset, wearing a _very_ upwardly revealing dress that I'm very sure isn't historically accurate, and I have nowhere to hide anything," she stated, "I couldn't go back even if I wanted to."

* * *

"Hey, Hermione? We got the ghosts finished, with minimal injuries, are you okay?" Sam asked, knocking on her door in the house the woman had graciously allowed them to stay in, despite it being ghost infested.

"I need help," she called out weakly, making him open the door and finding her pouting, staring at the full length mirror, still wearing all of the clothes Katelyn had put her in. "I can't get out." He chuckled and shut the door behind him.

Sam looked her over in amusement before sighing and standing behind her, taking off the choker before taking off the outer corset. "Don't tell Dean, I'll never hear the end of it."

She scoffed airily, "Neither would I." He unzipped the dress and she stepped out of it, sighing when he began to unlace the corset, carefully and slowly. "You're earning _serious_ brownie points for getting me out of this medieval torture device."

He smirked a little, "How many?"

She sighed and leaned into his chest, his fingers still moving, slowly giving her back the ability to breathe right. "Enough."

He pecked the side of her jaw, smiling a little, "Do you think we'll ever tell Dean?"

She snorted, rolling her eyes, "When he stops being an arse, yes, we'll tell him we're dating. Now – _please_ get me out of this blasted corset."

"With pleasure," he smiled, kissing her once more before going back to his task.

* * *

**I've heard mixed things about corsets, but I have heard that it can displace your organs over time, and I read about the lady bits being pushed  
lower from a play, called _The Waiting Room_. It's really good, I've read it a couple of times. **


	8. Shopping

**I don't like shopping but I like getting things do you see my dilemma or do I need to continue**

* * *

_Shopping_

"Granger – you are – the _weirdest _girl – I have ever – met," Dean grunted, trying to help Sam pull the girl through the door frame, Bobby watching in amusement.

"I – am – not – going," Hermione declared, gripping tighter on the frame, making a mental note to fix the scratches later.

"Why do you hate shopping? Aren't you female?" Sam asked loudly.

"It's boring! And dull! And there's nothing that interests me!" Hermione stated, making a squeaking noise when her fingers began to slip. She and Dean screamed as they went tumbling into the floor, Dean groaning before Hermione leapt up and tried to dash up the stairs, but Sam had followed her and was trying to tug her from the railing instead.

"He's getting her closer to the car," Bobby muttered, watching as Hermione cursed Dean to Hell for bringing up the idea, only to have Dean respond that he'd been there already and still got out anyway.

"Alright, I'll make a deal with you," Sam decided, tightening his grip on her, "If you come willingly, I will get you _any_ book that you want."

Hermione froze, stilling in his arms, pursing her lips before a small smirk appeared on her face, "_Any_ book?"

Sam lit up a little, "Any book."

"And you'll go up to the register and everything?" she smirked a little bit wider.

"Sure," he shrugged.

She released the railing and Sam set her down on a step below him, blinking at her smirk before she turned around and headed to the door.

"I can't wait to see what happens," Dean muttered to Bobby, who nodded back.

* * *

"What'd she make you get?" Bobby questioned when Sam carried Hermione through the door, slung over his shoulder while she and Dean laughed, Sam frowning at the both of them.

"God, I love this witch," Dean laughed, collapsing on the couch and gripping his sides before Sam practically threw her on the couch next to him, although she was laughing just as hard and didn't really react.

"_She_ made _me_ get _this!_" Sam said, shoving a book towards Bobby, sending Hermione and Dean into another fit of hysterics. Bobby warily took it, eyes widening a little before he began to cough and tried not to laugh for Sam's sake. It had a white background, although there was a lower half of a woman, lounging against something, her legs mainly the focus other than the title. The cover proudly exclaimed "_A Guide to Understanding Men – If You Want Closure in Your Relationship, Start with Your Legs._" Sam turned back to Hermione and frowned as she tried to look abashed, but failed horribly.

"You," he declared, "Are the _worst_ girlfriend _ever._"

Hermione only grinned, hopped up, and pecked him on the cheek, still chuckling, "I'll take that as a compliment."

Sam turned to Bobby to explain, "I got a guy as a cashier! He took one look at me, then the book, and said 'honey, I can save you a whole lot of heartbreak, I go on break in five minutes, I've got a room just around the block, we can be done in ten.'"

Bobby finally began to laugh, Dean trying to take deep breaths to breath properly again, but Hermione was hugging Sam and grinning very brightly.

"I am _never_ forcing you to go shopping again," Sam decided, making her smile and stretch to peck him on the cheek.

"Good, that was what I intended to come out of this experience," she said, giving an affectionate yank on his hair before heading up the staircase, Dean and Bobby still trying to regulate their breathing.

* * *

**_It's an actual book I just Googled "ridiculous book titles" and it came up with fifteen of these fuckers _**


	9. Hanging Out With Friends

**I tried to Google all of Sam and Dean's friends but it wouldn't load and i don't know all of them so here's this and I'm sorry but I'm a very sarcastic person**

* * *

_Hanging Out With Friends_

"I don't understand – how is she the star?"

"Alright, since you're British, I'll explain it to you _carefully_," Dean stated, "She is the star because everyone wants to bang her."

"Who are you talking about?" Sam asked, coming out of the bathroom and running a towel through his hair, glancing between Hermione frowning at Dean on the couch, and Dean looking particularly smug from a small chair. Sam plopped down on the couch next to Hermione and brightened when he saw what was on the screen. "Hey, it's _Friends_!"

"Sam, the star of _Friends_ is totally Rachel, isn't it?" Dean asked.

Sam scoffed, "What? No, it's Monica."

"Ha!" Hermione called triumphantly. "I knew it wasn't her!"

"No way! Everybody wants to bang Rachel, therefore, the star of the show is Rachel!"

"Everybody has some tie to Monica! And besides, Rachel is a huge bitch."

Dean gasped and clutched his heart as Hermione leaned into Sam and looked between the two brothers, "She is _not!_"

"She is too! She's selfish, whiney, and is spoiled. Plus, she's the one that wanted a break with Ross, and then got pissed when he slept with another woman."

"He cheated on her!" Dean exclaimed.

"They were on a _break!_ Besides, Ross is Monica's brother, Phoebe is Monica's former roommate, Chandler is Ross's friend from college and Monica's neighbor and later Monica's boyfriend-fiancé-husband, Rachel is Monica's friend from high school, and Joey originally wanted to bang Monica. _And_ it's her apartment that is mainly the set!"

"You just like Monica because she reminds you of Hermione!" Dean exclaimed, throwing on his jacket and stomping out of the motel room, Sam watching him go in amusement.

"She does not!" Hermione scoffed before blinking up at Sam, "Does she?"

Sam gave a small grin and kissed the top of Hermione's head, "A little bit, yeah."

"But she gets so upset about little things and – "

"You do too, but that's okay," Sam pecked her cheek this time, "You're passionate and I love that about you. And, besides, I think I'm pretty good at making you feel better about things."

Hermione paused before smiling a little, leaning further into him and wrapping her arms around him, "Yeah, you're pretty good at it."

Sam smiled a little bit wider, just hoping that he wouldn't be in the room when the episode with that line came on.

* * *

**I love Friends, so much so that I just assume everyone's seen it as much as I have. I can literally list what happens in an episode just by someone saying "Oh, the one where (character) does this". It's kind of sad.**

**And, in closing note – _I'll be there for yoooouuuu like I've been there before I'll be there for yoooouuuu 'cause you're there for me toooooooooooo_**


	10. With Animal Ears

**I really wish there weren't so many cliché anime things on this list like the next one is them wearing kigurimis I had no idea what the fuck a kigurimi was okay I had to Google it (this is like the second or third time I've mentioned Google in this story) and anyway I refuse to do that and the one where they're in a different visual style so you guys have two chapters that come from prompts from you guys idk I may have drabble chapters**

* * *

_With Animal Ears_

"Not. One. Word."

She was sitting atop her check-out counter. They'd found her after Bobby died and she'd helped them discover and take out the Amazons. Since then, she was their go-to information gal – and she was helpful in the battling department. Dean had been wary of trusting her after she declared that she was a witch, but Sam had stated that she _had_ saved Dean's life. Dean had then replied, as they were driving back to the motel, that the only reason he trusted her was because he wanted to get into her pants, and not that he'd saved his older brother.

She dressed warmly while she was in her shop, with leggings and baggy sweaters and fuzzy socks, with her hair tied up on top of her head, but when she was out hunting with Sam and Dean she wore jeans, tank tops, and a dark leather jacket that she admitted had some protection spells woven into it.

Although Dean had grown to trust her, there was still only so much that they were willing to share with her or have her see.

Her mouth twitched and she flicked between the two brothers before her eyes settled on Sam and she arched an eyebrow.

"Gabriel," he answered, earning a sigh and an eye roll from her, as the archangel had visited her plenty of times to mess with her.

"Fix it," Dean insisted, having her hop down from the counter and stride up next to the two, reaching up and rubbing her thumb against Sam's new furry ear sitting atop his head, brown to match his hair, Dean's black and laid back on his head.

Hermione smiled again and dropped her hand, earning Dean's finger in her face.

"Don't," he demanded as she started to grin, "Don't you fucking do it, Granger."

She gave a giggle before slapping her hands over her mouth, shaking as she tried to contain her laughter. "It's so ruddy cute though!" she giggled, leaning against her counter and chuckling.

"It is not!" Dean argued.

"You're right, you're right," she amended, waiting until his shoulders relaxed before she quirked a grin, "It's adorable."

"Granger!" Dean warned.

"Fine, fine, I'll fix it," she said, hopping on top of her counter to sit on her knees, ushering Sam to move forward as she took out her wand. He stood still as she muttered to herself, humming and sighing and growling a little. She gripped his shoulder and tried to look closer before she slipped from her perch and knocked into him, the two of them landing in a pile on her floor.

"Bloody ears!" she cried out, moving Sam's head to rest in her lap instead as she worked on them.

Several hours later, the two boys were back to normal, and the witch was muttering to herself about the archangel.

"Err – thanks, Hermione," Sam said before he and Dean left.

"Anytime, Sam," she smiled back, "Oh, and Sam?"

"Yeah?" he ducked his head back in.

She gave a small smile, "You don't need the ears to be cute."

Sam stammered and blushed before Dean grabbed the back of his shirt collar and toward him to the car, muttering about how if that wasn't her flirting he'd grow the ears back and wear them for three years.

* * *

**Flirting is stressful like holy shit I'm making this effort and you know I am ask me out now please**

**Oh, okay, and figure out a prompt for the next chapter okay thanks bye**


	11. With Pets

**Okay so I came up with my own prompt thing because apparently there's this show on Animal Planet that's just you watching these puppies and kittens and it's fucking adorable **

* * *

_With Pets* _

"Sam."

He'd only gone to her because he knew she wouldn't judge. She would understand, she'd accept it, she would figure out a solution to the problem. That was what she did, that was always what she did. But now she was staring at him as if he were an axe-wielding murderer who just broke down her front door.

"Please – for the love of all that is holy and sacred in this world – tell me that _those are not demons._"

Sam blinked and looked down at the small, wriggling beings in the palms of each hand. He'd been walking along down the road, going from Dean's house back to his (which was a weird arrangement, we'll get to it later) when he'd seen the strange shape on the side of the road and stooped to look into it. And now, here he stood, facing his girlfriend with apparently a duo of a young puppy and kitten, their eyes and ears still shut, making small whines and cries for help.

"No – I found them on the side of the road." Hermione's face changed and she looked at him in disbelief, probably at the thought of anyone dumping the two on a side of the road, or how Sam had seen the two creatures. "They were in a plastic bag, Hermione." She looked heartbroken now. "There were others in the bag too, but they weren't…." She looked near tears. "I had to help them."

"Well," she began, rubbing the back of her neck, moving to him and moving her fingers against the kitten's back. "I think I have some blankets somewhere and I'll call Luna in to get something for them to eat – she breeds weird creatures, but they'll all eat the same thing, magic and whatnot – and I'll look up some websites and see what we have to do."

Sam smiled and pecked her temple, "Thanks, Hermione."

She snorted, heading up the stairs with her phone out, "Please, Sam, I was worried that they were demons we'd have to get rid of. I'd probably cry and just let them take over my house." He chuckled and moved to the couch, settling the animals on a leg each, the puppy sniffing around before giving a small yip, as he watched them warily, afraid they'd fall off. In a few moments, Hermione was back, holding an armful of blankets with her cheek holding her phone with her shoulder, her computer resting on top of the blankets.

"Alright, thanks Luna – yeah, I'll call you if I'm interested in breeding either of them with a Wiffleblinger," Hermione rolled her eyes before ending the call, having Sam grab the laptop and set it on the cushion next to him as she dropped her phone on the coffee table and spread the blankets out in front of the fire, taking the two animals from him and sitting, rubbing them and trying to keep them warm as Sam researched.

"It says for the dog that they have to eat every two hours for the first week, and the cat that if it's an orphan, that it'll have a harder time keeping body heat, so get it a plush thing to keep it warm," Sam paused, "Can the dog keep it warm?"

"Sam, the dog is keeping _me_ warm," Hermione stated in amusement, "Read on."

"Right," he nodded, "Uhm, there's something called lactic acid -?"

"Right, yeah, Luna's covering it too," she nodded, "That about it?"

"Think so," he hummed before he shut the computer and slowly moved to the blanket, facing them before Hermione handed him the dog and he began to do the same as her, rubbing it and trying to keep the heat. "So what are we going to do?"

She bit her lower lip and kept her eyes down on the cat, "I suppose if we really wanted to we could find them homes."

Sam watched her in amusement, "Uh-huh?"

"I mean, it'll take a few weeks, and it'll be hard not to become attached, but it wouldn't be impossible."

"Hermione?"

"Yeah?" she finally looked up at him and bit her lip.

"Do you want to keep them?" he grinned.

"Can we?" she asked, "I've always wanted a dog but my father was allergic and I've been thinking about getting a cat ever since Crookshanks died and, really, they're too cute to give away!"

Sam chuckled and nodded, "We can keep them."

"Yes!" she beamed, leaning forward to kiss his cheek, "Thank you, Sam."

He grinned back, glad that he'd found them before the two ended up like their siblings, and glad that Hermione was  
being so incredibly helpful. "What're we going to name them?"

"Uhm…" Hermione pursed her lips, leaning against the coffee table, frowning down at the little mewing creature, a light grey with darker grey stripes. "I don't quite know."

"What about…." There was a loud pop outside and Harry stepped in, shaking water out of his hair before grinning at the two, a paper bag filled to the top with different items.

"'Lo," Harry said, settling the bag on the coffee table and looking between the two.

Harry had, initially, met the Winchester brothers by running from them and cursing loudly that he wasn't used to having Muggles chase after him. After a lengthy conversation and some minor incidents with Dean's shotgun, the three boys slowly began to trust each other, working together on cases and slowly accepting Harry into their weird little hunter family. They were stuck on a time-sensitive case and Harry called Hermione, who popped right in in her Ministry outfit, consisting of a skirt, blouse, and heels, and ticked off book after book before Dean interrupted and stated that they had about a week. Hermione then began to chastise Harry while pulling several large books out of her bag, handing them to Sam as he murmured something about Mary Poppins. She'd waved her wand and highlighted the articles that should help them, and the four set to reading, hours passing as they quietly poured over the pages.

It ended up that the books were completely useless – a fact that Hermione still begrudgingly admits – and Hermione, Sam and Harry helped Dean claw his way away from a demon. Hermione had been backhanded by the demon (who was at least twice a normal size) and didn't even hesitate in jumping right back up. Before she'd gone, Harry had looked at her in a smug way and asked if she wanted to stay and help them on cases, and she'd returned two days later frowning at Harry as he continued to look smug.

It was then that she suggested actually living in houses and using magic to get from case to case instead of hopping around everywhere and probably losing many of their resources. They were on the other side of town from Bobby, and Dean still had his Impala, although he wasn't paying "a heart, a lung, and a soul" for gas, and occasionally they would take road trips to break the tedium of just appearing into a new town. In the beginning, the boys stayed in one house together and Hermione was down the street and around the corner from them. But then an altercation with two scheming boys and a magically locked Impala occurred and Hermione and Sam began to date, and so Sam moved in with Hermione and Harry grimaced and said that he'd quite like to move in with Luna, who probably lived somewhere in Maine, but nobody was quite certain, as she needed help with breeding her strange creatures.

"Hi, Harry," Sam smiled as he sat on the outer edge of the blanket.

"I heard that the stork gave you two bundles of joy tonight?" Harry teased lightly.

Hermione snorted with a small smile, "More like a freakishly tall American, but yes, there's two new additions to our dysfunctional family."

"Hey," Sam pouted, "Maybe you're just short!"

"That's no new revelation, Love," she grinned as Harry chuckled.

"Do they have names?" Harry questioned, breaking up their light teasing.

"Erm," the two chorused, Harry laughing and standing.

"Well, good luck with that," he smiled before sighing, his face drooping, "I've got to get home to some cross between a dodo and an alligator."

Sam scrunched up his face, "Dodos are extinct."

Harry snorted dully, "Try telling that to Luna." Hermione laughed and waved as he walked back outside.

"We do need names for them," Hermione repeated as Sam stared thoughtfully down at the dog.

"What about…well, wait, what's a what?" Sam questioned.

"Err…good question," Hermione grimaced back at him before they decided "unisex."

"Well…what about Ghoul?" Sam gave a lopsided grin as Hermione snorted and smiled.

"And Dryad?" she smirked.

"Hah, good," he said before tilting his head, "Who gets what?"

"Uhm…the dog is Dryad and the cat is Ghoul?"

"Sounds good," Sam smiled before leaning forward and kissing her lightly, "So far, so good."

Hermione smiled and moved to lean into him, both being careful not to squish the little ones, "So far, yeah, we're pretty good."

* * *

"Dryad, stop."

"What's she doing?" Sam asked from the kitchen, drying off his hands.

Hermione gave a huff, "She's making me question whether I am a cat person or a dog person."

Sam gave a laugh and moved into the living room to find that the small, golden retriever puppy was belly-crawling and giving small yips as Ghoul flicked his tail and wiggled his hind end to pounce on his friend. They were only a few weeks old, and had already been to the vet and not liked it one bit, but they were growing very fast. Ghoul mainly hung around Hermione but would stare up at Sam in wonder, mainly wondering if he could climb him and swat at his hair. Dryad was happy with either of the humans, and seemed to be glad just be included in anything. The two animals got along fairly well, playing and pouncing and mewing or yipping at one another, but Hermione and Sam would always keep a steady eye on them in the case they got too rough.

"Hey!" Dean boomed, shutting the door behind him and watching in amusement as the cat streaked underneath the couch, swiping at Dryad's tail as he passed, leaving the dog to look around in surprise as Hermione laughed and stood to hug the oldest Winchester.

"'Lo, Dean," Hermione said as he pecked her hair affectionately, tugging her into his side before Dryad padded slowly up to him and sniffed the toe of his boot before sitting and yipping at him, tail wagging.

"You made a friend," Sam grinned at his brother, who snorted and carefully stooped down to play with Dryad's ears.

"Everyone's got a friend with her," Hermione said as she moved to the couch and reached her arms in, hissing once or twice before she produced the small, grey fluff ball known as Ghoul. "Ghoul's just skittish."

Dean paused in his actions to tilt his head at the British woman. "Ghoul?" he repeated carefully, as if making sure.

"Yup," she smiled, holding the kitten as he regarded Dean carefully.

"And what's her name?" Dean asked his brother, tilting his head downward to indicate the puppy bumping her head against his hand.

Sam grinned, "Dryad."

"God, you two actually name your pets after the shit we hunt?" Dean chuckled, blinking when Dryad tilted her head back and gave a little howl before rushing towards his hand, going after it with paws and little growls. He laughed and picked her up, holding her close and rubbing her ears as she attempted to teethe on his finger, as she'd been known to do with Sam's.

"What can we say? We're unoriginal," Sam smiled.

* * *

"So when are you going to ask her?" Dean asked, leaning against the kitchen counter, eyebrows arched with a small smile on his face, "I mean, you practically have two kids together. Granted, they're four-legged and furry, but hey – I'm not one to judge."

Sam gave a small smile, looking through several of the books to make sure they were the right ones to give to Dean, "Later tonight. And hey, you better be nice, that's your niece and nephew."

Dean laughed, before the smile dropped and became a frown, "I've been thinking…."

"Well, shit, it's probably a bad idea already," Sam sighed, shoving the books aside and smiling when Dean glared at him. "What have you been thinking about?"

"I've been thinking about giving up hunting. I mean, really, there isn't a point, we just put ourselves in danger. I mean, yeah, helping people, woo-hoo, but other than that…why are we doing this?" He looked to Sam as if he had the answer, but he only sighed and nodded along with him. "I mean, eventually, I'm probably going to have an adequately-haired, two-legged niece or nephew, and they deserve both of their parents, and their kickass Uncle Dean, and that weird British guy they call their uncle, and that other weird, redneck guy they call their uncle. Plus an angel in a trench coat – which, by the way, I'm surprised hasn't been by yet. I'm not seeing him as an 'Uncle Cas' though…can we call him 'Mama Cas' or no?"

"Dean," Sam gave a small laugh, "No. But yeah, I think just helping people would be good enough. It's like there's been some other reason looming over us and when we try to look it goes away."

"Poetic," Dean murmured in a snort, taking a swig of his beer.

"I'm ninety-eight percent sure that that comes from a prolonged exposure to her," Sam said.

"I'm ninety-nine percent sure that you just made that percentage up," Dean grinned as Sam laughed.

* * *

**I kind of want to keep going but then I kind of don't. **


	12. Making Out

**Ugh school and sickness and fucking homework and then everything else in the world conspiring against me. I caught on fire in Chemistry! Although, technically my apron did, but still! There's a hole in it! Thank God I caught it going in or else that would've hurt!**

**This wouldn't work the first couple of times by the way, this is why it took so long to update. (Pfft, yeah, totally, that's it. Excuses, excuses)**

* * *

_Making Out_

"_Let go, let go of me! Sam! Sam, please, Sam, I know you can help me, please, Sammy, I need you!_"

_Hermione, I'm trying! He won't let go, he won't give up, I'm trying, Hermione! I promise!_

_"Ssshhh, Hermione, Sam's buried deep, he can't get out, you're just wasting your breath. Not that he's trying that hard. Who'd want to help the Mudblood bitch?"_

_He could feel her tears dripping onto his hand; feel her struggling for breath, blood slowly dripping from her lips, her neck bright red, the palm of his hand the same shade. But he couldn't do anything, couldn't stop her from bleeding, couldn't even stop her from crying._

_"Sam, I need you," she insisted, although she slumped against the wall, and her breathing grew haggard. "I need you, Sam."_

Sam was surprised to see that his hands were shaking, even as he grasped them, and they were shockingly pale. It'd been three days. Three days where Lucifer was in control of his body, where Hermione was trapped in the same house as him – them – and was abused enough that the hospital hardly wanted anyone in there with her, worried that they were the ones who had inflicted the wounds and gashes, although it wasn't a far-fetched idea, technically. Dean and Castiel had burst down the door and gotten rid of Lucifer, leaving Sam panting and trying to get his vision to clear as Castiel kissed the top of an unconscious Hermione's head before helping the two get her into the car to take her to the hospital.

"_It's not your fault, Sam_,"_ Dean stated, knowing exactly what was on his brother's mind, looking in the rearview mirror to see him, holding the witch, his mouth hidden behind her bloodied hair, although his eyes were getting red around the edges. "None of this was your fault." _

_"I – I couldn't push him out. Not long enough to get her out of there. Not long enough to get her wand. She's going to remember this and she's going to see me doing all of those things to her."_

_"What'd he do?" Dean asked after a pause, as even though the two fought, he still cared about the girl's wellbeing. _

_Sam shut his eyes, "I was able to stop him from raping her, if that's what you're asking. I did that much."_

___"It wasn't your fault," Dean insisted once again, "She'll be glad you helped her when you could. Sam, he had control of your body, that's hard to get rid of." _

___Sam stayed silent with Castiel all the way to the hospital. _

"Sir, I highly recommend that you – "

"I'm not getting checked out," Sam repeated dully for the seventh time that day, knowing that the hospital staff was throwing a fit over the scratches and scrapes along his arms, some healing better than others. The nurse, a heavyset blonde woman, huffed and flicked at a plastic baggy before marching out of the room once more. Sam hesitated for a moment before reaching out and taking Hermione's hand, running his fingers over her skin.

"Hey, so I talked to Castiel, he said that he blessed her back at the house so she won't die, but her body's catching up, trying to heal itself," Dean stated as he shut the door behind him, holding a paper bag in his hand, setting it on a table next to Sam and walking around the room as he talked, "It would do that with her magic anyway, but apparently the drugs are supposed to help speed up the process. I'm going to head to Bobby's, see if there's something we can find that'll heal her quicker, maybe she needs a tattoo like we do – by the way, I'm going to find a better one to amp up yours, false advertising bullshit – anyway, when she wakes up we'll either convince her or drug her up and explain later. Sound good?"

"I…" Sam stared back at his older brother as he finally seemed to realize that Sam hadn't had any input. "I put her here."

Dean sighed and pulled up a chair on the other side of Hermione, frowning at Sam, "If she were awake, she would hit you, and you know it. Sam, you did not put her here. Lucifer did, the jackass. This was a result of some family issues up in heaven that spilled out onto Earth, and now people have to pay for it. This is not your fault, and I am upset that his happened to her, but you didn't do it. Now, you are going to shut your whiny face about it, eat the greasy fast-food burger I bought you, and either get checked out by the doctors or go down to the car and try to figure out Hermione's kit."

Sam glared over at him as he glared back before a scratchy voice interrupted.

"Don't take the green one, I'm pretty sure it's poison," Hermione croaked, eyes still shut, gripping Sam's hand feebly as the two looked over to her.

Dean gave a shaky laugh as she opened her eyes, only to shut them from the light, "Why do you have poison?"

She snorted and brought up the back of her freehand to rub against her eyes, "Pfft, why don't you have poison? Honestly, I don't know."

Sam released her hand and stood, "I'll go get the doctor."

Hermione managed to open her eyes as the door shut once again, her and Dean creating identical looks of worry before she turned to him, "How long have I been in here?"

"Couple of days," Dean shrugged.

She pursed her lips, "He's been like that for that long, right?"

Dean only nodded. Hermione knew Sam better than anyone would've thought. They understood each other; it was like they clicked together. They would stay up into the early hours of the morning, just talking, understanding each other further. Dean was a complete mystery to Hermione, and Hermione to Dean, but they knew enough from Sam to get by.

"When he gets back, let me talk to him," she murmured, eyeing the paper bag, "I'll try to make him eat too."

Dean smiled and nodded, standing and tossing his keys from hand to hand before arching an eyebrow at her, "Are you…er…going to be okay?"

She sighed and rolled her eyes with a small smile, "You two seem to forget I was in a war at seventeen. Trust me, Dean, I'll be fine. Go get some sleep, I'll swipe Sam's phone once I make him do the same and tell you how things went."

Dean smiled and nodded, walking out of the room as a doctor walked in, checking over her and explaining to her as to what was going on with her body and how she'd be able to get out of the hospital in a few days.

"Doctor?" Hermione called before the man could exit the room, "Could you tell me where Sam Winchester is?"

"He's being checked out by another doctor, his wounds were not as severe as yours, but still worth looking at. He'll probably get stitched or gauzed, he'll be back to you shortly," he answered, leaving the room as Hermione sighed and ran her fingers through her hair. She looked up as Sam entered not long after, his arms wrapped in gauze, a few patches of white on his neck, his eyes trained on the floor.

"What'd the doctor say?" he asked.

"I'll be fine," she said before reaching a hand out to him, making him look up and blink, "Come sit with me." He moved to a chair, but she made a noise of protest and scooted to one side of the hospital bed. He started to argue before sighing and sitting on the edge of the bed until she grabbed his arm and towed him back into the pillows with her, leaning into him. "It wasn't your fault."

"Hermione, I – "

"You tried," she said, frowning up at him, "That was all I could have asked for you, and you did, and I'm so grateful. I'll be fine, this isn't my first time being tortured. I am not scared of you, I will never be scared of you, because I care about you too much. I don't blame you, I'm more pissed off that you're blaming yourself. Now, if you would please go eat and then take a nap, I'd feel better because I have been awake for all of forty-five minutes and I'm already stressed out about you."

Sam blinked before smiling, nuzzling her hair and hugging her gently, "I'm glad you're okay, Hermione."

She smiled and leaned further into him, "I'm glad you are too."

They looked up as the door opened and Castiel stuck his head in, blinking at them in surprise before turning back to someone in the hall, "No, they are not 'making out yet.' Dean, what is 'making out' anyway? Is it a scientific term?"

"WINCHESTER!" Hermione yelped as Sam hit his head against the wall behind her bed.

* * *

**This is…depressing and probably not all that good. I'm having trouble with sleeping most nights. Also I need someone to rub my back because of backpacks and books.**


	13. Eating Ice Cream

**I think everyone has or should have that one pair of sweatpants that whenever they see they're out of the dryer or back in your drawer or closet you always go "aww yiss it's gonna be a good day/night"**

* * *

_Eating Ice Cream_

"Side, near your finger."

Hermione made a noise of complaint, hurriedly twisting her ice cream cone to catch the drip, Sam across the table and grinning over at her as James – Hermione's godson – bounced in his seat and took another swipe at his own cone, expertly catching all drips while Hermione huffily grabbed another napkin to get rid of the sticky feeling on her hand.

"Alright, so…he can just change his hair color whenever?" Dean asked, sitting across from James and looking at Hermione carefully, stabbing at his own ice cream, unaware that Sam had taken a large spoonful out of the side of his, James grinning over at the tall man as he grinned back.

"No, that's Teddy," she answered, "He's around a year older than James."

Dean hummed, tapping his spoon against his mouth as he looked around. A lot of people kept glancing over at them, whispering to their friends or gaping, until Dean's gaze moved over them, leaving them to fidget or hush each other. "You're some sort of celebrity?"

Hermione's lips pursed and she swiped at her cone with her tongue, "Don't want to talk about it."

"Now or never?" he asked.

"Either," she snapped. Dean rolled his eyes and blinked when he noticed the bit Sam had taken and glared at his younger brother, who laughed with the boy beside him. She sighed and looked out of the window before turning to James, "You want to go check on George, James?"

"Uncle George? Yeah!" the little boy brightened as Hermione chuckled. "After ice cream?"

"Yeah – he'd be mad if we brought ice cream to his shop and got everything sticky."

"Kind of like what Hermione's doing to her hands," Sam said, already holding out more napkins to her as she groaned and handed him the cone to stand and go to the bathroom and wash her hands.

"Sam," James began very seriously, "When are you going to marry Hermione?"

Dean fought very hard not to smile at that, although it wasn't working as Sam grimaced and took a swipe at Hermione's cone.

"Well, James, I'm going to ask her very soon, but I'd appreciate it if you didn't tip her off. Can you keep a secret?"

James brightened, pleased to be involved with this very important task, "Yeah!"

Sam grinned back and took another swipe at Hermione's cone as she turned to take it back, smiling cheekily at her as she pouted.

"Ice cream thief," she huffed, taking back her cone, but moved to Sam's lap rather than back to her seat, swiping a dab of ice cream off of her cone to press to his nose, laughing when he crossed his eyes and made a face at the cold and stickiness. Dean shared a glance with James and grinned as Hermione laughed.

* * *

**Better than the last one! I'm sorry I made it sad.**


	14. Genderbended

**I like genderswapping things it brings me great joy. **

* * *

_Genderbended_

"Coffee, black – green tea, just milk – hot chocolate, not that hot, anything else? Great, be right back."

Sam winced when her sister's elbow collided with her ribs, the blonde arching an eyebrow at her as her face flushed. Deana was shorter than her, with a pixie cut hairstyle and a rather gruff personality, but Sam – having grown up with her – got to see a softer side. Sam was taller than her, with hair down to her shoulders, and could be seen as sweet, but the sisters knew that she could be pretty damn scary when she wanted to.

"Anything you would like to share?" Deana was smirking as Sam turned redder.

"No," she decided.

"Hmm," Deana hummed, working on her pie, "You know, it's surprising."

"What?" Sam asked with a sigh.

"I just didn't think you'd go with foreign guys."

Sam blushed darker. The young man had started working at the local restaurant in Bobbi's town a few weeks ago, where the three regularly ate, and Sam could definitely see how someone would like him. He was of moderate height and slim build, a warm smile and brown eyes, and curly brown hair that seemed to fly in every which way. His accent was different, and often caused many people to ask on why he'd chosen to stay there, but he would wince before taking their orders. So far, Sam hadn't gotten a name.

"Shut up," Sam hissed as Deana held her hands in surrender before waving down the young man, who smiled and walked over to them as he finished writing his sentence.

"Can I help you?" he asked as Sam turned even redder and glanced at his nametag. Hermes. Weird, but cool.

"Well, not so much me, it's for my sister, Sammy," Deana explained, twirling around on her stool as Sam watched on in mortification.

Hermes arched an eyebrow and glanced between the two, but said nothing.

"See, Mister…?" Deana waited for him to supply his last name.

"Granger," he offered warily.

"See, Mister Granger, my sister is extremely awkward around men she finds attractive."

Hermes blushed about as red as Sam, at a much faster time too. "Uhhh…I can't charge for that."

Sam snorted as she tried to suffocate herself with her arms.

"Well, I should hope not," she snorted before continuing, "See, so I'm acting as a wingman. Woman. Anyway, Mister Granger, I strongly recommend that you ask my darling sister out."

"Oh my God, Deana, I'm going to murder you," Sam decided, glaring at her and trying not to look over at Hermes.

"Uhh, I get off at five?" Hermes asked with a small grin, rocking back on his heels as Sam, biting his lower lip as she cocked her head at him. "Sound good?"

"Uhm…yeah," she answered with a blink, making him grin and nod before heading to another table.

"Good sister?" Deana questioned smugly.

"Good sister," Sam agreed.

* * *

******I could go on, but I won't. **


	15. Deer Woman

**I made up my own again because it was crap. :P I forget what this was originally, I have a list somewhere but I'm lazy so pffbbhfbfbhbt. This one is from a weird myth that's actually in the United States, said somewhere around Oklahoma or something. I've got the Wikipedia paragraph in here so it's okay.**

* * *

_Deer Woman*_

"Okay so they're getting…I'm sorry, what was the term you used again?"

"Trampled," Dean threw his stuff into a chair as Sam sat, poised and ready at the computer, "These people are getting trampled."

"Did anyone say what it could've been?"

"They're thinking something big and with hooves," Dean shrugged, grabbing a beer from the fridge. "Like a cow. Do cows trample people?"

"I have no idea," Sam said as he began to type away. If they had to go and hunt down a cow…. "I've got something, it's a Native American myth. Deer woman…."

"D-e-a-r or d-e-e-r?" Dean asked.

"D-e-e-r," Sam answered as he pursed his lips and read.

_Deer Woman, sometimes known as Deer Lady, is a shape-shifting woman in Native American mythology, in and around Oklahoma, The Western United States and The Pacific Northwest. She allegedly appears at various times as an old woman, or a young beautiful maiden, or a deer. Some descriptions assign her a human female upper body and the lower body of a white-tailed deer._

_The Deer Woman is said to sometimes be seen as a beautiful woman just off the trail or behind a bush, calling to men to come over. Deer Woman is often said to have all the features of a normal young woman, except her feet which are shaped like deer hooves and her brown deer's eyes. Men who are lured into her presence often notice too late that she is not a natural woman and are then stomped to death. Other stories and traditions describe the sighting of Deer Woman to be a sign of personal transformation or a warning. Deer Woman is also said to be fond of dancing and will sometimes join a communal dance unnoticed leaving only when the drum beating ceases._

_According to Ojibwe tradition, she can be banished through the use of tobacco and chant others say that you can break her spell by looking at her feet, which are in fact hooves. Once she is recognized for what she is, she runs away._

"I think we have a shape-shifter," Sam murmured.

"Are they turning into cows?" Dean blinked.

Sam snorted, "No, deer. Some weird shape-shifting creature, Native American mythology, it'll come as either a woman with hooves or like a centaur, but with a deer."

"So…it's not a cow?" he asked after a pause.

"Would you stop with the cow thing?" Sam frowned back.

"Would you go to the store?" he asked in the same tone of voice, motioning to the fridge, "This is the last beer – I thought you were doing that while I went and played FBI?"

So Sam got up from his seat and went to the store, driving back with the groceries in the back seat before he slowed down to stare at a sight. There was a woman there, with curly brown hair and a long white dress, kicking a tree, her skirt hiding her legs. Sam slowed down and rolled the window down, startling her when he spoke. "You alright?"

She whirled around and he got a good look at her. She had a pale heart shaped face, with wide brown eyes, her lips parted in surprise as her eyebrows shot up. "Oh, uhm," she spoke, having an accent, definitely British, which threw Sam off. "Do you know where town is?"

"Back that way," he answered, pointing over his shoulder before his eyebrows furrowed, "What's your name?"

"Hermione," she answered briskly, settling her hands on her hips and arching an eyebrow at him.

"Sam," he stated before tilting his head at her. "Do you need a ride?"

"I think I can manage – after all, you never know who will do something to you," she hummed as she turned and began to walk down the road, back the way he'd came, "Thank you for the directions, Sam."

"Yeah, sure," he frowned before driving back to the small house he and Dean were staying in.

* * *

"Dean, Dean – _she's here_."

Dean looked up when his brother grabbed his arm, following his gaze to a young woman dancing in the small little pub near the outskirts of town, dancing with a small blonde with long hair. She was laughing, dressed differently, and seemed to be having the time of her life as the beat carried through the room.

Dean frowned before downing his drink and marching to the girl, tapping her on the shoulder and staring her straight in the eyes as she turned around, the light from her face flicking away, holding something scarred and sad. He blinked at this, but got over it and got a charming grin on his face.

"Hi, you wanna dance?"

She glanced him over, pursed her lips, then gave a wicked grin. "Nah, you're not really my type!" she called over the music, to which she had never stopped swaying to. She looked around his shoulder and blinked at Sam before smiling, "Hey, you gave me directions! Thanks, by the way, Luna would've freaked out if I hadn't shown up for her bachelorette party!"

"Yup!" the airy blonde agreed, twirling away and grabbing Hermione, the two laughing as the brunette waved.

"Did you see her feet?" Sam asked as Dean blinked up at him.

"Dude, that's just…" Dean made a face while Sam scoffed.

"The myth, jerk."

"Whatever, bitch," he snorted, "No, I did not see her feet." He tilted his head at the brunette, who was laughing at the blonde, dancing to a different tune than the one playing. "Go dance with her. Either she has hooves and we get our deer lady or she doesn't and you might get laid." He shoved Sam towards her before he could argue, causing the two to bump together and her to blink up at him.

"Uhm, hi…again," Sam stated lamely as she smiled up at him.

"Hullo," she said before arching an eyebrow at him, "Was there something you wanted?"

"Uhhh…not really," he decided, turning to walk away when a smaller hand grabbed his arm, making him turn back to see her smiling up at him.

"I never did properly thank you, did I?" she said.

"Oh, no, it's fine, I – "

"Hermione, you should dance with him," Luna decided airily, making her blink over at her. Without another word, Luna spun through the crowd with all the grace of a ballerina.

Hermione rolled her eyes and smiled up at Sam, "Friends."

"Brothers," Sam sighed back, making her laugh and nod.

"Although not biologically, I really do understand," she said, still swaying to the music, "Such a pain."

"Hah, you must not have grown up with them, they're ten times worse," he sighed again, "You're lucky."

"Since I was eleven, actually," she stated smugly, rocking on her heels, "Not as bad as you, but at least I know something about it. Plus the pain of the girls who decide to be your sisters, although I can tolerate them some days."

"Some?" he asked with a grin.

"Definitely not all," she replied with a grin as well, giving a startled scream when a bullet whizzed right past her head and landed in the wall, causing them to turn to where it'd come from as everyone screamed and parted to dash outside, aside from Hermione, Sam, Dean and Luna.

Hermione grabbed Sam's arm and tugged him back behind her, making him blink at the strange switch as the larger man clomped his way towards her.

"I told you I'd find you, bitch," the man snarled, "You're gonna pay for what you did to me?"

"What are you, psychotic?" she snapped with a glare, "You could've hurt someone!"

He smirked, "That's the point." He aimed the gun again, and Hermione paled, Sam moving to get in front of her as the bullet came closer and closer before it suddenly stopped, inches in front of his face, and everyone seemed to stare at the shaking girl with her palm out. The blonde girl waved a stick, the man being knocked out and tied to a stool as Sam looked over at the girl with the big, doe-like brown eyes. He glanced down and then glanced back up at her before she and the blonde disappeared with a pop.

* * *

"This dude's not in any sort of database, no ID, no license, it's like he just decided to come into existence," Dean glared at the computer screen, he and Sam having broken into the local library long after closing hours, Dean working with the computer while Sam worked with the books.

Sam made a noncommittal hum, looking down at the pages without seeing what was on there. She wasn't a Deer Woman, but she wasn't normal either. But he couldn't bring himself to hunt her, he wouldn't be able to do it. Something in her eyes….

"He's not in any database because he hasn't been into this world long enough," a light voice called, accented, making Sam turn around and see that she was sitting on a table not too far from them, knees up to her chest, barefoot, toes flexing as she bit her lip. "I was sort of a magical police officer, called an Auror. He was doing very illegal things, of which I won't go into now, but he had his magic taken away, which he took as a personal insult. I never thought he'd find me…I never thought he'd get a gun."

"What are you?" Sam asked before Dean could get his own gun.

"I'm a witch, a good witch," she said before wincing at the reference, "Oh God, it's like I just came out of a bubble." Sam snorted and she blushed, "No, I…I'm different. Than what you hunt."

"How do you know we hunt things that are…different?" Dean asked warily.

"Anti-possession tattoo, saw it on you while you were in the car," she said, pointing to Sam and his low-cut shirt, that if it were angled accidentally, you could see a small portion of the tattoo. She smiled and pulled back her shirt, just enough to see the tattoo and a numerous amount of scars. "I've just picked up the business."

"What, people weren't enough for you?" Dean sneered, and she turned her gaze to him and turned it into a hate-filled glare.

"People weren't good, I was sneered at and stalked, just for being female and from a normal family," she glared, "I couldn't get rid of them like I can with these creatures."

"But you're one of them," Dean spat.

"I – am – _not_," she hissed, standing up from the table, hands balled into fists, "I was born with this, and I got enough shit in the magical world for who I was born to, and I refuse to be ridiculed by the normal world for what I was born with. I thought you two deserved an explanation."

"Thank you," Sam spoke up, making the two turn and blink at him. "We were just checking on what's happening in town."

"I am too, but I haven't discovered what could be causing these attacks," she said.

"Dean, move, let me show her the page I found," Sam said, turning to the computer.

"No," he glared, crossing his arms over his chest, making Sam roll his eyes and grab the back of the chair to roll Dean away as he began to type on the keyboard while Dean rolled past Hermione. "Bitch."

Hermione looked as though she'd been slapped and turned to do just that to the oldest Winchester when Sam responded, "Jerk."

Hermione looked between the two to see identical smirks on their faces before rolling her eyes and sighing. "Boys. She looked over Sam's shoulder and frowned in confusion, "Deer Woman? Hmm…perhaps, but I don't know, it seems like a stretch, they don't usually come here."

"We found a Wendigo in Blackwater Creek, I think in Colorado," Dean answered. "Things like these don't care about the location, just the hunting grounds."

"But what would she want? Stomping people to death doesn't sound like it has any purpose – at least with Women in White, they have a reason, but this is…."

"Women in White?" Sam asked.

"Oh, yeah, I worked a case a while back about one," she pursed her lips and her face darkened, "It's how I found out my boyfriend at the time was cheating on me."

"I'm so sorry," Sam grimaced.

"Is he dead?" Dean asked dully.

"No," she sighed, "But only because I saved his arse."

"Good girlfriend," Sam smiled, making her look up and blink at the gesture before smiling back.

"Thanks," she said before shaking her head and going back to the screen, "If you were hunting one, then why were you at the pub? All the women there had blue or green eyes, from what I saw, but it was too dark to tell exactly." She saw the two glance between each other before she caught on and snorted, "You thought _I_ was the _Deer Woman?_"

"Well, to be honest, the first time I saw you I didn't see your feet," Sam pointed out, "And you were wearing some pretty thick boots at the pub – bar."

She laughed, throwing her head back and tangling her hand in her hair, "That's ridiculous! Witch, yes, but a _deer?_"

"Hey, we hunt down the unnatural," Dean pointed out as her laughs died down into a smile, "We've seen some pretty freaky shit."

"Yes, well," she tapped her knuckle to her mouth as she thought, biting her lip, "I think I could set something up. Is the only way to get rid of her by looking at her feet?" She leaned in to read again, and Sam caught the smell of honey and tea tree oil before he shook his head to get it out of his brain. "Tobacco and chant…hmm…. Well, I guess a little banishment spell could do the trick. Do either of you by the chance smoke?"

"Nah," Sam shook his head.

"Only when we're on fire," Dean pointed out.

"Oh, well…yeah," Sam agreed as she chuckled.

"I'll help you find your gal, boys," she said before nodding in goodbye, "See you around." And with that, she disappeared, leaving the two in the darkened library.

* * *

"Shit, shit, shit, fucking shit," Sam panted, running through the woods as fast as his legs could carry him, Hermione running beside and keeping a pretty good pace.

"Dammit, dammit, dammit, fuck," Hermione hissed as she dodged a tree limb, only to trip over a root. She rolled onto her back as Sam skidded to a stop, watching as the woman – who didn't exactly look like a woman at that moment, advanced.

Hermione glared, pulled out a stick, and hissed "Avada Kedavra." The Deer Woman stopped running, frozen with a look of horror on her deformed face, and plummeted to the ground. There was silence as Sam took in what she did, how she was now slumping into the ground as if she'd been defeated, a deep frown on her face before she heard something shifting, opening her eyes to see Sam extending his hand down to her. She gave a weak smile and gripped it, popping up quickly, as she was so light. She patted his hand before she released it, turning to the body and rubbing the back of her neck.

"Well," he said as he stood next to her, looking at her face as it seemed to darken even more, "At least it wasn't a killer cow."

She blinked and looked over at him in surprise before doubling over and clutching her stomach, laughing as Sam laughed, which was how Dean found them, the two broken people, making each other laugh.

And Dean decided that she was pretty alright.

He decided that she was even more alright when she agreed to marry Sam while the three were in Las Vegas, three years later. But that's a different tale.

* * *

**Wooooo, check it out, I can still write after asking a guy out and getting rejected! (I'm honestly feeling pretty okay, just cringing from the embarrassment, but I've done something that other people haven't, and so I'm pretty proud.) **


	16. Morning Rituals

**So did I tell you guys the good things in my life or have I just been coming off as really shitty? Oh, the latter? Whoops. Anyway – so a group of kids (and by kids I mean people my age) and I are doing a short film involving some scary-ass woods, a football team and some may-or-may-not-be cheerleaders, and some knock-off of Ronald McDonald (which, now that I think about it, sounds like a Supernatural episode…) anyway, I think I may or may not be an actor in this, but I do know that I'm doing costuming and make up, which I'm really excited about because I'll get to do bruises and other awesome shit like that, although I don't know about the clown costume…Halloween _is_ coming up though…in any case, my life isn't that bad, and I'm getting over the rejection thing from last chapter, but I just forget to tell you guys about the good stuff. _Sorry._**

* * *

_Morning Rituals_

"Your hair is in my face again."

"Get your face out of my hair then," she replied as she stretched her legs, smiling when she heard him chuckling, humming when he kissed the top of her head. Despite how much he teased her, he loved waking up next to her. "So – what're we doing today?"

"You usually have the whole week planned out," he teased, tightening his grip on her.

"I'm feeling lazy," she sighed, leaning further into his chest.

"So let's stay in bed," he hummed, already shutting his eyes.

"Now you _know_ we can't do that," she snorted, making him open his eyes and pout.

"Why not?"

Hermione pointed to the baby monitor on the nightstand behind her, making him grimace as she grinned. "They're asleep."

"That's not the case – if we're asleep and Castiel hears Jacob's 'in distress', it'll take ages for us to get him back," she huffed, "Bloody angel."

"It's weird he does that with Jacob and not Maura," Sam grinned.

"I dunno – maybe it's because he's a Winchester boy, he just feels compelled to look after them," she teased before giving a laugh when Sam growled and started to tickle her. "Quit, quit, we'll wake them both up! Ahh! Sam!"

Sam pulled back with a grin, "Right, a grumpy toddler and an upset newborn, that'd be a great start to any day."

"At least we slept in until eight," Hermione sighed, smiling back at him, pecking his cheek before slipping out of bed and stretching, grinning when Sam sat up with her and ruffled up her hair. "Remind me why we decided to have children again?"

"Because we love each other and would therefore love the result of us," Sam smiled as she leaned into his chest.

"Damn, you're smart," she sighed.

"I _did_ go to Stanford," he pointed out.

"And then skipped out to hunt things that go bump in the night, so I guess you aren't _that_ smart," she teased, giving a startled scream and running down the hall to the bathroom as he followed, sucking in a breath when his arm wrapped around her waist and her feet left the ground, hissing as she saw how far up she was before Sam laughed and kissed the side of her head before setting her down in front of the sink and heading out of the room.

She grabbed her toothbrush and toothpaste before something latched onto her leg, making her look down and smile at the boy with curly hair hugging her leg, looking up at her with big brown eyes.

"Good morning, Jacob, how're you?" she smiled as Sam leaned against the doorway with the baby in his arms, as she was still sleeping.

"Good," he said as she handed him an orange toothbrush and sat him on the counter. He messily scrubbed at his teeth, trying to do it as quickly as his mother, who was already tying up her hair.

"You can get ready, I'll take care of her," she said, turning and taking Maura from Sam and smiling before heading downstairs. Sam was getting his toothbrush ready after giving Jacob some toothpaste – which the little boy had neglected in the beginning – before Hermione called up. "Sam! Dean's here!"

"Dean!" Jacob stated excitedly, his mouth full of foam from the children's toothpaste.

"Huh-uh," Sam grunted through his own mouthful of toothpaste, "Get ready first, then you can see your uncle."

"Awww," Jacob complained before he continued to swish at his teeth while Sam brushed through his hair.

"Hey, there's the little lady," Dean grinned as he looked down at his niece, who was settled in his arms and had finally opened her eyes up at him, the same kind of green that had been passed through Sam's genetics. She murmured and cooed, rubbing at her eyes and yawning. "Did you let your parents sleep in?"

"Thank the Lord," Hermione sighed as she dug through the cabinets, trying to find Maura's formula. "Hey, are you busy this weekend?"

"Ahh, no," Dean decided before warily continuing, "Why?"

"I need help on figuring out where to put another room for one of the kids, I was thinking on you helping with Jake's room," she hummed, "He wouldn't question anything."

Dean grinned and shrugged, "Sure, why not? Where is the troublemaker anyway?"

"Sam's working on bathroom duty with him," she grimaced, "I feel really bad that he inherited my hair."

"Poor kid," he sighed before grinning when she frowned at him. "Hey, you brought it up."

"Well it's _my_ hair," she huffed before shaking her head, "Harry said he had another job for you, by the way."

"Ugh, he works me too hard," Dean groaned, slumping in the chair, "How the hell does he know about all of these things that attack people in _America_?"

"Magic," she chirped, twirling her wand and having the dishes from last night finally clean themselves, as she'd been trying to help Sam get the kids to sleep and got distracted.

"Uncle Dean!" Jacob crowed as he hopped down the stairs, Sam following and grinning at his brother holding his daughter.

"Hey, Jake!" Dean grinned back before he saw the little boy's pout at him holding his sister. "Hey, I'm her uncle too, you know."

"Everyone always cares about the baby," Jacob huffed while Hermione and Sam shared questioning glances, as they always tried to divide time evenly.

"What, you mean your parents spend more time with Maura than you?" Dean blinked.

"Well…no," he admitted.

Dean sighed and rolled his eyes, "Look, kid, imagine if they didn't spend any time with you. It'd feel pretty crummy, huh?"

"Yeah," Jacob agreed.

"Well, if they didn't spend any time with Maura, then she'd feel pretty crummy. Make sense?"

"But she's a baby, she won't remember feeling crummy," Jacob pointed out while Sam leaned to hiss into Hermione's ear '_he's your son_.' She swatted at him with a glare while he jumped back with a grin.

"Well, how long are you planning to hog your parents?" Dean asked before the little boy looked rather guilty. "See? They love her just as much as they love you." Dean suddenly turned to panic mode when Maura began to cry, "Mya, Mya, she's crying, what do I – ?"

Hermione's laugh cut him off, taking the wailing baby from her brother-in-law and shaking her head as Sam held out the bottle. "You went to purgatory and did just fine, but when a baby cries you fall apart."

Dean made a small 'oomf!' sound as Jacob catapulted himself into his uncle's arms. "Yeah, well, I knew how to handle purgatory. Babies are totally different."

"Dean's personal hell is having to take care of babies for eternity," Sam murmured, grinning when Hermione laughed and nodded in agreement. Maura was quickly quieted when she had something to eat, grabbing at the bottle with her pudgy hands as Hermione sat down in the chair across from Dean and Jacob, Sam sitting between the two and watching in amusement as his brother and son made faces at each other.

Castiel appeared not long after, making Jacob grin, hop off of Dean, and hug the angel's leg, who smiled down at the boy.

"Hi, Castiel!" he said excitedly.

"Hello, Jacob," he said, patting the little boy's hair.

"Cas, don't pick favorites anymore," Sam decided.

Castiel's eyebrows furrowed, "Favorites of what? I must say, Sam, I cannot count certain foods as my favorites."

"No, with our kids," Sam smiled as Dean chuckled. "You like Jacob over Maura."

The angel's eyes widened, "Never!"

"Aww," Jacob complained with a pout.

"Hey there, Mister, you had us all to yourself when you were this age, she's got to share right off the bat, the least you can do is learn to do it now," Hermione frowned.

"Maura is fragile, I would hate to harm her," Castiel explained.

"You're not going to hurt her, Angel Boy," Hermione said softly before standing and motioning the angel to her seat, settled the small girl in his arms and showing him how to hold the bottle. Jacob pouted some more, only to be swooped up into his mother's arms and peppered with kisses, making him laugh as Sam watched on happily.

He really did love mornings.

* * *

**Do you guys think glittery eyeshadow will show up on a camera because I'd hate to have a glittery bruise. "What the fuck, did you get punched by a Twilight vampire?"**


	17. Spooning

**YOOOO GUESS WHO HAS A SORE THROAT**

* * *

_Spooning_

"Sam…Sam…_Saaaam_. Sam, dammit, wake up."

He sighed, burying his face deeper into her hair, tightening his grip around her, "What?"

"As nice and cozy as you and your witchy girlfriend look, you have to get up," Dean announced, frowning as Sam opened an eye and looked up at his brother, Hermione still sleeping soundly, her back pressed against Sam's chest, her hand holding his with his other arm wrapped around her.

"Why?" he questioned.

Dean fidgeted for a moment before sighing and lowering his voice, "Dad's back."

Sam lifted his head, staring at his brother for a few moments before looking back down at Hermione, "I'll see him in the morning."

"No, man, he says now," Dean insisted.

"What, Dad comes back and you snap right into being his little soldier again?" Sam frowned.

"Hey, don't even pull that shit, alright?" Dean warned.

Sam quietly moved from the couch, standing and glaring at his brother, "Just because he's back, you're going to change your mind about Hermione?"

"No, man, that's not – "

"Dean, you know Dad! You know what he's going to say! 'Sam, how stupid do you have to get to go around fucking with the enemy?'"

"Oy," a groggy voice called from behind them, making him turn and blink at the young woman, stretching out on the couch in the attic, rubbing at her eyes. "There has to be a better term than 'fucking' to wake up to." She sat up and stretched her arms, "John back?"

Dean nodded and she sighed, standing and running her fingers through her hair.

"Well then," she pursed her lips, "Moment of truth then, hmm?" She reached up to peck Sam's cheek, moving downstairs, "I'd wait a bit if I were you, just let me introduce myself and calm him down, and we should be all set."

Dean and Sam blinked as she disappeared, and Dean snorted, "Your girlfriend's stubborn."

Sam grinned, "Yeah, but if it were anyone to convince him, who would you pick?"

Dean was silent for a bit before scoffing, "I hate you two, you both like being right so goddamn much."

Sam chuckled and flopped back onto the couch, arms settled behind his head as Dean moved to an old armchair.


	18. Meeting John oh shit abort mission

**Hey since you guys are super sexy and asked me to continue last chapter I am so this thing is gonna have 31 chapters (unless we want to have you guys submit ideas or something) (whoa don't expect too much involvement Ava slow down)**

* * *

_Meeting John oh shit oh shit fuck_

John Winchester rubbed his hands together, looking over the darkened kitchen, eyes gazing over the plates in the cabinets and the numerous amount of candles nestled in a corner on the counters. He looked up when he heard footsteps, but these were not loud, but rather quieter than either of his sons, so he was not surprised when he saw a young woman step off the staircase, wearing a large, baggy sweatshirt and some tights, her feet bare. She had large, curly hair, but was smiling at him as she reached and flicked on the light.

"Hullo, Mister Winchester?" she said, moving towards him and extending her hand, John shaking it as he blinked over her accent and came to the silent decision that she must've been one of Dean's. "I'm Hermione Granger, I'm dating Sam." Well, he was wrong.

"Call me John," he stated, arching an eyebrow at her as he dropped her hand, "Where are you from, Miss Granger?"

"Just outside of London, and please, it's Hermione," she countered.

"Why would you ever come to America?" he blinked.

She shrugged and gave a small smile, "Adventure."

"Have you found it?" he asked, crossing his arms over his chest.

"With your sons? Pfft, definitely," she sighed, rolling her eyes and shaking her head fondly, "Those two idiots get themselves into more trouble than ever imaginable."

"So you know what we do?"

"Yes, Dean's given me this big speech, 'hunting, killing things, the family business,'" she waved her hand through the statement, as if it were something bothersome, and blinked at him, "I'm sorry, would you like something to drink?"

"Do you have any coffee?" he asked.

She smiled and nodded, reaching for a mug and grabbing the pot, handing him the warm liquid as he sat down at the kitchen table.

"So where are Sam and Dean?"

She blinked and turned to look over her shoulder, frowning before she sat across from him, "Who knows?"

John gave a small smile and took a sip, "So how did you get caught up with my sons?"

She sighed lengthily, "We were hunting this bloody witch, they mistook me for her, things got messy, but we cleaned it up in the end, and now here we are."

"How'd you get all of those scars? Hunting?" he questioned, pointing at the ones along her forearms, a few on her neck and face.

"Oh, no, you see I – " They both turned as Dean and Sam poked their heads in the doorway, surprised to see that she was still alive, or that John wasn't being a complete jerk.

"Did you tell him?" Dean asked as Hermione stood, the two stepping into the kitchen and looking at her curiously.

"Well, I was about to, but – " Sam grabbed her arm and tugged her into him, Dean standing in front of the two as Hermione and John both blinked. "Sam! Honestly, let go, I can take care of myself!"

"What's going on?" John questioned.

Sam and Dean shared a glance before Sam winced and answered, "Hermione's a witch."

John was silent, looking between the three, Dean guarding his brother and the witch as Sam gripped her to him, and it was rather comical, considering their height differences, but John frowned and twined his fingers together, hiding his frown behind them. "You said you hunted a witch with the boys."

"American witches aren't technically witches, they bargain for powers from demons," Hermione answered calmly, "I'm different, I was born with my powers and taught at a school. The scars are from a war I fought in."

"Who did you fight against?" John questioned.

"Wizards who used dark magic," she stated.

"Hermione was tortured," Sam offered, frowning at his father, attempting to hide Hermione against him, "Because of who she was."

"A witch?" John asked.

"Because she was from a normal, non-magical family," Sam corrected, Dean acting as a barrier between the two, "For things she couldn't change about herself."

"Sam," Hermione huffed, "This is weird."

John looked over at the three before standing, Sam and Dean tensing while Hermione scoffed.

"So long as she doesn't hurt anyone, she's fine," he decided before giving a dry laugh, "When you asked if she'd told me, I thought it was because I was about to become a grandfather or something."

"_Hell_ no," Hermione insisted, making Dean snort before laughing, clutching onto the back of a chair while Sam laughed as well, running his hand through his hair.

* * *

"You okay with me yet, considering?"

John looked up from the little bundle at his daughter-in-law, who had a smirk on her face, watching her daughter being cooed at by the tough ex-hunter. She was lying in a hospital bed, her hair sticking to her face, a few tubes and wires stuck into her, but seemed quite proud of herself.

John hadn't been asked for his blessing when Sam wanted to marry Hermione, but he gave it anyway, right before he planned to ask, saying that if Sam didn't propose he was the biggest idiot in the world. Hermione had jokingly asked at the reception if John was okay with her yet, and he'd given a very dry "nope" before grimacing at a tiny dragon that one of her friends had brought. She periodically asked her father-in-law if he was okay with her, and he would continue to deny.

Sam hadn't spoken for three hours when Hermione had told him she was pregnant, and Dean had laughed about it for about five hours, and Hermione sat on the other end of the couch and read while Sam processed this new information. John snorted, patted Sam on the back, and said "Welcome to parenting, don't fuck it up." The first thing Sam said whenever he rose from his shock-induced coma was "we're not taking naming suggestions from Dean" which then caused a six hour fight between the young adults, Hermione siding with Sam and Dean fending for himself.

Sam was currently attempting to find Dean, as he'd gone off in search of a nurse and hadn't returned in quite some time, and so Hermione had found the opportunity to ask again.

This time, John gave a small smile and glanced down at the sleeping girl, with chubby cheeks and fingers, and sighed dramatically. "I guess."

Hermione chuckled, smiling when John handed his granddaughter back to her mother, rubbing her nose against the top of her head, looking up when Sam dragged Dean back into the room.

"C'mon, Sammy, I had a shot!" he argued before Sam plopped him into a chair and moved to the hospital bed, carefully taking the baby out of Hermione's arms and settling the little girl into Dean's, who had immediately stilled. Dean stared down at her as she slowly woke up, yawning and squinting up at him, Sam grinning and reaching his index finger out to her, Dean smiling when she reached and grabbed his finger with her tiny fist.

"It must be a witch thing," John announced from the corner.

Sam froze for a moment, sharing a worried glance with Dean, while Hermione looked amusedly at John.

"Pardon?" she asked.

"Well, Dean doesn't like kids, but I think she just cast some serious hoodoo on him," John shrugged while Sam snorted and grinned as Dean pouted, "The only other thing that Dean has ever looked at like that was pie."

"Hey!" Dean huffed, grimacing when the baby began to squirm, quickly offering her to Sam, who took her and sat on the edge of the bed next to Hermione, who shushed her quickly by kissing her head and humming soothingly.

"Knock, knock," a nurse said, bright and cheerful, making Hermione stick her tongue out before Sam caught her with a grin. "Do we have a name for the little girl?"

Hermione and Sam looked between each other before nodding.

"Well?" the nurse asked, poised with her clipboard.

"Her first name is Maura," Hermione said, pausing for the nurse to scribble down the information.

"And her middle name is Mary," Sam continued, glancing over to see that John had turned his face to the wall and was gritting his teeth, blinking rapidly.

"Maura Mary…?" the nurse prompted, causing Hermione to purse her lips and Sam to grin and peck the top of her head.

"Winchester," Dean answered, glancing around at the small group who now shared the last name. He grinned and slunk in his seat, proudly watching as his little brother Sam and his wife leaned into each other and smiled at their daughter, and saw that their dad was trying not to cry over the sentiment of his granddaughter's middle name, and was extremely confused when Hermione looked up and smiled at him and silently told him to wipe his face. He reached up and blinked when he found something wet there, swiping it away quickly and glaring at her a little before she grinned, nodded, and kissed Maura's head.


	19. Doing Something Together

**Got a big dude sweater and I'm gonna wear that and leggings and comfy things tomorrow so since I'm in such a great mood here let me bore you for a bit (****◡‿◡✿****)**

* * *

_Doing Something Together_

"Deck the halls with boughs of holly – "

"Fa-la-la-la-la, shut the hell up," Dean grumbled, making Hermione laugh as she shut the hospital door and moved to throw her scarf, gloves and coat over the same chair that Sam had settled his articles of clothing over.

"I see the patient is happy today," Hermione teased as Sam chuckled from his chair next to his brother's bed, book poised on his leg as he read.

"The patient is pissed," Dean huffed, "I've got three broken ribs, they think they punctured my lung but they aren't sure, and this stupid witch won't heal it for me." He looked at her pointedly with a frown while she grinned and conjured up another chair.

"Actually," she said as she sat down, dressed in black slacks and a dark blouse with heels, untying her hair, "I'm pretty sure I'm the _brightest_ witch of my generation."

"I hate you so much," he declared, "I hate Sam too."

"Hey, if Hermione doesn't want to heal you, that's her decision," Sam shrugged, shutting his book and allowing Hermione to pull it out of his grasp and read the back cover. "I can't _make_ her heal you."

"Sure you can!"

"Not Hermione," Sam grinned while she smiled and settled the book back in his lap.

"Persuade her," Dean frowned, "You're male, she's female, get me healed so I can kick some ass."

"This _really_ isn't making me want to heal you," Hermione pointed out.

"Besides," Sam smiled, "Since we're dating, there's not much I could do to 'persuade' her."

"Oh God, Granger, I feel so sorry for you," Dean winced, making Hermione laugh as Sam glared back at him. "So how was wizarding lawyering?"

Hermione huffed and frowned, "Sucked. These jerks are trying to demean my work because I'm female and I learned today that apparently I _can't_ kick them in the face."

"What is wrong with your judicial system? My God, that's an injustice," Dean grumbled.

Sam gave a laugh as Hermione snorted and nodded.

"I agree – Dean, run for Prime Minister," she decided.

"Is that like the president?" he asked.

Hermione rolled her eyes and turned to Sam, kicking her legs up on the edge of Dean's bed and grinning to the youngest Winchester, "What do you want for Christmas?"

"Nothing, Hermione," he insisted.

"No, dammit, tell me what you want for Christmas."

"We're not doing this again."

"Yes, we are, this is important to me."

"Well, it's important to me that you not spend any money."

"Sam," she dropped her legs and leaned towards him, frowning seriously at him, "I can make things out of thin air. Tell me what you want."

"Peace on Earth," he answered.

"Sam," she glared.

"Global warming to stop."

"Oh my God," she groaned as he grinned and continued.

"BBC's Sherlock to come back from hiatus."

"Okay, I may have magic, but I'm not a miracle worker," Hermione snorted.

"I want a dragon," Dean offered.

"I've already got you a present," Hermione said flippantly.

"Seriously?" he blinked before squinting at her, "_Why?_"

"Shh, I'm trying to crack Sam," she murmured, moving and sitting in Sam's lap to look closely into his eyes, frowning as he laughed. "Tell me."

"Alright, alright, let's see. What do I want…" he pursed his lips and wrapped his arms around her, looking up at the ceiling.

"Her to heal Dean," Dean coughed into a fist.

"Nah," Sam shook his head, grinning when Dean glared back at him. "I want…a day where nothing bad happens to you, Dean, Cas, or Bobby."

"Not a miracle worker," she insisted.

"That is asking way too much dude," Dean pointed out.

"You know it's sad when we can't even get a day off from that sort of crap," he snorted before tilting his head to the ceiling, "I really can't think of anything, Hermione."

She sighed and stood, raising her hands to her hair, "You have four days to figure it out." She pecked his forehead, moving to grab her coat and scarf again, "I just dropped by, I'm on babysitting duty tonight."

"How many?" Sam questioned.

"Teddy, Victoire, James, Albus, Lily, Abigail and Augustus," she counted dully.

"Wow, they really cut you back today," Sam blinked.

"Yeah, well, it's the holidays," she shrugged, leaning down to kiss him goodbye and waving to Dean as she left.

"You get her anything?" Dean asked once the door had shut and Hermione was well down the hall.

Sam grinned and nodded, leaning back in his chair to pull it out of his jacket pocket, "Think this will do?"

Dean gaped at the little black box, "Oh my God. You're going to force me to be related to her."

Sam snorted and grinned wider, "Yeah, sorry, you're just collateral damage."

"Dude, I don't think I even care," he grinned back, "She's going to be _so_ pissed off, you know?"

"I know," he chuckled, putting the ring away, "She hates surprises."

"I want a video," he insisted, "I want a video of her being pissed off at you."

"We'll see," Sam laughed.

* * *

"Your brother sucks!"

Dean laughed and nodded as Sam and Hermione walked into his hospital room, Hermione apparently having been proposed to in the car, as she couldn't seem to decide to laugh or be pissed off.

"I didn't get a video, sorry," Sam said before tossing him something, landing on his bed as he blinked and opened it.

"A giant rainbow Slinky?" he lit up and grinned over at Sam, "I always wanted one of these!"

"I know, I remember," Sam said, sitting down at a chair and tugging Hermione into his lap, wrapping his arms around her and settling his chin on her shoulder.

"Alright, Glenda, don't think you can top this," he said, unwrapping the Slinky and moving it with his hands.

In response, Hermione smiled and flicked her wand at him, making him pause and blink and prod at his ribs before she did it again, a miniature dragon tilting its head and giving out a puff of white steam from his nightstand.

"You got him a dragon?" Sam hissed.

"_She got me a dragon_," Dean whispered with a wide grin. "Okay, no, you're getting your present on New Year's, I need time to find something awesomer than a _dragon_."

"Good luck," she chuckled, leaning into Sam's chest.

"Best sister _ever_," Dean murmured as the dragon crawled up onto his bed and looked at him with very large eyes.

Hermione blinked before grinning widely, looking up at Sam as he pecked her forehead.

It was turning out to be a pretty good Christmas.

* * *

**I have no idea why I wrote about Christmas when we haven't even had Halloween yet I just suck**


	20. In Formal Wear

**This one is formal wear and honestly I love dressing up it's one of the many reasons I love theatre but I never have a reason and so I just cry myself to sleep at night until I get cast in shows (AHAHA OH WAIT NO ONE LIKES ME WHOOPS)**

* * *

_In Formal Wear_

"You look fine, quit freaking out."

"But it's just – this doesn't – _it feels weird._"

Hermione snorted and moved to Sam, her hair tied up in a complicated up-do, smoothing down the jacket of his suit. The bodice of her dress was tight, and left her shoulders bare, showing off the scars and the marks where a pair of wings had once been, the skirt seemingly floating.

Hermione was an enigma that the boys were reluctant to figure out when they first met. Here was this witch, who'd died in some hardcore battle, and thus bumped up to angel status once she'd be "purged" of her human memories and emotions, but then fell with Castiel – which they'd all witnessed, and were still trying to help the former adjust – and thus became a witch again, back to her old self with her old memories, just with a few more scars and bruises and a certain fondness for a tall American.

Sam really did love Hermione, honestly, and she knew that, he made sure to point it out as often as possible without Dean laughing at him, but he was not comfortable with this ordeal.

She moved to peck his lips and smiled before rocking back onto her feet, "Sam, if you want to leave, just say the word and we'll go."

"No, your friends missed you."

She snorted again and waved to the large ball room at the Ministry for Magic all the way in _London_, grinning brightly up at him, "These people aren't my friends. These people are paparazzi and heartless leeches who want to get any sort of story. We're still here for at least two more weeks, which will give us all time to hang out and see whatever you Americans want to see."

"Dean looks like he's having fun," Sam remarked instead, turning to look at his brother as he conversed with a witch with bright blue hair.

"He won't be having fun when he realizes that's a nymph," she chuckled, grinning at his curious look. "Nymphs are _very_ into nature. Once she realizes he drives a car…" She coughed back a laugh when the nymph hauled off and slapped Dean across the face, Sam chuckling while Dean gaped and blinked back stars. "Well, at the very least, that was fun for me."

"Hermione!" an airy voice called, the small blonde woman dragged Castiel by the arm, who had a smile on his face. "What is a Laundromat and why have you never told me of such things before?"

"A Laundro- Cas, what have you been telling Luna?" Hermione questioned.

"My adventures just after I fell," he answered truthfully, "Luna has never heard of a Laundromat before."

"Luna, it's not terribly fascinating, I don't know why you would get so worked up over not knowing about it," Hermione blinked.

"Muggles are fascinating, no telling what kind of creatures could lurk in an area with so many washing and drying machines," Luna answered before she and Castiel wandered away, Dean moving up next to them, still rubbing his cheek.

"Holy shit, Granger, are all of your magic chicks freaks?" he questioned.

Hermione leaned in and frowned dully at him, pointing to her face. "Do you see this? This is the face of a girl who found out she was a witch, died, turned into an angel, fell from grace, and became a witch again. _There is nothing normal here_."

Sam snorted beside her, placing his hand on her waist and tugging her into his side as Dean rolled his eyes and moved to where Castiel and Luna were.

"Seriously, I wouldn't mind if we left," Hermione said, looking up at Sam with big brown eyes. "_Hint, hint_."

He chuckled and pecked her forehead, wrapping his arms around her waist, "Hermione, can we go home yet?"

She gave a dramatic sigh and wrapped her arms around his, giving a small grin, "If we must."

* * *

**Why did I throw in the angel part? Who knows. Have I actually watched the season premiere of season nine? _No because we have crappy cable and I haven't even come close to catching up_. How do I know about it? Tumblr.**


	21. Dancing

**POP QUIZ: How do you write about dancing? **

**ANSWER: _You make all the characters drunk._**

**WARNING. THERE ARE SONG LYRICS IN THIS. THE FIRST SONG IS "All This and Heaven Too" BY FLORENCE + THE MACHINE. THE SECOND SONG IS "Skinny Love" BY BIRDY. IF YOU KNOW THE SECOND SONG, YOU KNOW THAT THIS WILL HAVE A LITTLE BIT OF SADNESS.**

* * *

_Dancing_

Just a few drinks. It wasn't voiced aloud or anything, but it was acknowledged. Nobody was getting hammered the night before a big battle. But then two drinks turned into six, six turned to seven, then eight, and she wasn't quite sure what number she was at now, but they were out of beer.

Dean had gone into a drunken rant about how "shit all this shit was shitty" and Hermione had quickly lost track of what he was saying. Castiel, however, was nodding his head along and agreeing. She wondered how much he'd had.

Sam, however, was tilted back in his chair at the small dining room table and staring up at the ceiling. She knew that she was concerned about him, but somehow felt that she didn't quite know the word just yet. Her brain was foggy, and she was struggling along, trying to keep up. She hadn't gotten this drunk since her eighteenth birthday, when Fred and George had dragged her out to a Muggle pub to get her hammered and have Harry and Ron laugh at her.

"Hey," Dean said, frowning at Hermione across the table, "Why aren't you this drunk?"

She smiled and arched an eyebrow before plainly stating, "I'm British."

Dean stared at her with glassy eyes before blinking, "Huh. Never thought about that."

Sam chuckled, shaking his head, still staring at the ceiling before he snapped straight up.

"What is it, Lassie?" Dean asked, looking at him urgently before his voice dropped to a whisper, "Is Timmy stuck in a well?"

"Who is Timmy?" Castiel asked worriedly before standing, "We must save Timmy! Come along, Dean! Timmy is in danger!" He stumbled out of the back door, Dean sighing and standing to follow while Hermione tilted her head to Sam.

"Come on," he said, standing and holding out his hand to her.

"What? Sam, what's wrong?" she asked, standing as well, gripping his arm when she stumbled a little.

"What?" he cracked a grin and shook his head, "Nah, you're dancing with me."

"What? Sam, no, I don't dance," she insisted, shaking her head.

"Aww, come on, Hermione," he said with a smile, and it seemed so genuine, one she hadn't seen in a while.

With a sigh, she allowed him to pull her to an unobstructed space in the kitchen, near the radio, which he turned and flicked on. A familiar song came on, and she smiled, humming along with it.

"Oh, so you know this song?" he asked, taking her arms and pulling her against his chest, grinning down at her. "You know, I've never heard you sing."

"And you never will," she insisted before he dipped his head and pouted, making her laugh and shake her head. "Fine! You win!" He grinned and pressed the tip of his nose to hers, a strange drunken gesture that was actually quite sweet.

She took a deep breath. They probably wouldn't remember this in the morning. It was debatable on what would happen the next day, on where they would end up, but she was willing to have this one unremembered moment of happiness.

"_But with all my education, I can't seem to command it. And the words are all escaping and coming back all damaged. And I would put them back in poetry, if I only knew how, I can't seem to understand it. And I would give all this and heaven too, I would give it all if only for a moment that I could just understand the meaning of the words you see, 'cause I've been scrawling it forever, but it never makes sense to me at all._"

Sam grinned, pressing his forehead to hers, and her chest tightened in an unfamiliar way.

"You sing really well," he smiled, swaying with her in the kitchen, his hands on her waist and hers around his neck.

She felt her face heat up and dropped her gaze to his chin, which was a bad idea since his lips were in that vicinity. "We aren't really dancing to this song."

"Uhh, yeah we are," he countered with a grin.

"We're slow dancing," she explained, removing her hands from their perch and preparing to move away, "This isn't a slow song."

"Then we'll find a slow one," he said, moving to the radio, one wrist trapped in his hand. She prayed he wasn't able to feel her pulse and how rapidly it was moving. _Please let him be too drunk to make that connection._ He stepped away from the radio as the first few notes of a piano were played, the beginning of the song, and he moved back to her.

_Come on, skinny love, just last the year_

_Pour a little salt, you were never here_

_My, my, my, _

_My, my, my_

_Staring at the sink of blood and crushed veneer_

"This is a sad song," he murmured, and she sighed a sigh of defeat and stepped into his chest, wrapping her arms around him, making it a sort of slow, swaying hug, but he didn't seem to complain.

_And I told you to be patient_

_And I told you to be fine_

_I told you to be balanced_

_And I told you to be kind_

_And in the morning I'll be with you_

_But it will be a different kind_

_'Cause I'll be holding all the tickets_

_And you'll be owing all the fines_

"Are you scared?" he whispered into her hair.

She gave a shaky laugh, "I've been in a war before."

"You didn't answer the question," he noted.

She took a deep breath, smiling when she realized she'd been greeted with a cross between the woods after the rain and old books, something that she'd decided was just Sam. "I'm bloody terrified."

He gave a hollow laugh, "Me too."

She pressed her ear to his chest, listening to his heartbeat, steady and strong. Proof that he was standing here, holding her, just as scared as she was.

"What are you afraid of?" she asked.

"That everyone I care about will be taken away because of me," he answered without hesitation, "You?"

She shut her eyes, focusing on the beat, "Same."

"Hermione…are you scared of me?"

She opened her eyes and tilted her head back to look at him, frowning and narrowing her eyes, "Why? Are you scared of me?"

"No," he answered before tilting his head, "Unless you're mad. Then you're fucking terrifying. But, no, your heart was beating pretty fast earlier. If you want to stop, I wouldn't – "

"Sam," she whispered, pulling away from his chest, still in the loose circle of his arms. "I'm scared of losing you."

He gave a curt nod before giving a lopsided grin, "I'm not as drunk as you are."

"I'll believe it," she smiled back, "I drank quite a lot."

"Trying to numb it?" he asked.

She gave a small shrug, "Yeah."

He hummed before stopping, taking her hand and pressing her fingertips to his neck, just on his pulse point. It was thudding, faster than before, and she blinked before Sam dipped his head and quickly kissed her lips. He pulled away as she looked at him in surprise.

"After tomorrow," he said, "I'll remind you of that."

She smiled and nodded, reaching up to kiss him again, rising up on her toes to meet, her heart pressed against his.

* * *

"There's got to be something. Castiel, can't you - ?"

"Sammy, just…she's gone."

"But she can't be!"

"Sam, come on, let's get you checked out, you've got a pretty nasty cut on your head, it might leave a scar if we don't hurry up."

"But Dean! What about Hermione?"

"Hermione will be…She'll be okay now, Sam."

"But…we made it. She should have too."

"I know, but, Sam…it's not how these things…Castiel, what the hell are you doing?"

Hermione sucked in a deep breath, clawing at the Earth, her eyes popping open, staring up at Castiel as he peered down at her. Sam was by her side in an instant, Dean looking as if he'd had a sudden heart attack, while Castiel looked to the sky and nodded.

"I knew it wasn't her time," he said, looking rather smug.

"Son of a _bitch_," she breathed, curling into Sam's chest while he grinned into her hair. "Holy shit, did I just _die?_"

"Welcome to the club!" Dean said jovially, patting the top of her head while simultaneously ruffling up Sam's hair. "Come on, we'll go celebrate your first death."

"What?" she called out after him as he and Castiel began the trek back to the Impala. "What did you boys _do_ before me?"

"Eh," Sam shrugged, still grinning as if he'd just won the lottery, "We died a lot."

She shook her head at him, smiling before reaching up to kiss him.

"Hey, _I_ was supposed to remind _you_," he said, standing with her in his arms before settling her onto her feet.

"Well, I just beat you to it, didn't I?" she smiled, leaning into his side as he walked with her to the car. "I feel like I should quote some _Princess Bride_, what about you?"

"As you wish," he teased, kissing her again when she gave him a dry glare.

* * *

**Do I get the award for "Not as Sad as it Could Have Been" yet, or do I need to keep trying?**


	22. CookingBaking

**Fun fact: One time I almost caught the house on fire from one dry spaghetti noodle and since then I am always supervised when I cook.**

* * *

_Cooking/Baking_

"This so isn't healthy."

Sam snorted and reached into the bowl settled in her lap as she sat in his on the kitchen floor, tapping some batter on the tip of her nose as she blinked before snorting, swiping more dry mix out of her hair. It was a simple project, one to do on a rainy day in the bunker, but they still managed to create a mess. Perhaps it was because the mixer "spazzed out" on them. Perhaps it was because the recipe was in Russian and they had to translate it first. Or perhaps it was just them, but in the end they'd resorted to the pre-packaged mix and didn't even bother to put it in the oven, instead sitting in the messy kitchen floor and eating cake batter.

"Shush," Sam instructed, moving to lick the batter off of her nose as she laughed. "We had fun."

She chuckled and leaned against him, "Yeah, that was fun. It's probably best we didn't try to put it in the oven."

"Why?" he asked, settling his chin on her shoulder and twisting a curl around on a finger.

She snorted, "It would've burned."

"Come to think of it," he hummed, wrapping his arms around her waist, "I don't think I've ever seen you cook."

She laughed, "And you never will. At least, it won't turn out well."

"Nah, I bet it would," he said, kissing the side of her head.

"Liar," she said with a grin, moving the bowl out of the way as he began to tip them to sprawl out on the floor.

* * *

"Daaaaad?"

Sam stared down at the ten year old, who was looking up at him, covered in flour from head to toe, and looking very concerned.

"I don't know what happened," Grace hummed, perched on top of the dining room table, seven years old and very smart for her age, her curls covered with small dusts of flour, as it seemed Axel, her older brother, had gotten the brunt of it.

"Boom!" Molly giggled, clapping her pudgy hands as Axel rubbed the back of his neck sheepishly.

"Uhh, we think we got the fire," Axel admitted.

Sam's eyes widened and Dean took several steps back, "There was a _fire?_"

"Small one," Axel was quick to admit.

"Yeah, that was when the mixer came in handy," Grace said, her curls bobbing.

"Wait…what?" Sam blinked.

"Boom!" Molly giggled, rushing to her uncle to squeal as he tossed her in the air.

"It kind of…uhm…flung flour everywhere," Axel sighed. "I tried to help, Dad, really, it just…got out of control."

"Where was your mother during all of this?" Sam asked, moving through the dining room, Grace hopping off of the table to follow him and Axel as they moved to the kitchen.

"Dad," Grace whispered, stopping him before he could see the disaster zone, "Mum's magic…."

"It happened again," Axel continued.

Sam blinked before sighing, "Go clean up. Dean, you watch Molly?"

"Yeah," he nodded, moving into the living room, ruffling up Grace's hair to get rid of some of the floor.

Sam slowly opened the door, grimacing when he saw the air hanging with flour, the sink running and the oven making strange sounds. But his focus was on the woman, sitting with her back against the fridge, head bowed.

"Hermione?" he asked softly, moving towards her.

"I can't handle this anymore, Sam," she whispered, picking her head up as he moved and sat in the floor with her. "Ever since that thing with the angels, I – "

"Hermione, you're just out of the swing of things," he said, shaking the flour out of her hair and swiping at her face. "Your magic is trying to get readjusted after being short-circuited, none of this is your fault."

"I feel so useless," she admitted. "And Axel – God bless Axel – he's trying so hard to help out with his sisters and he's trying so hard to understand and then Grace, Grace is so worried about me and then Molly is just trying to cheer everyone up and I can't do all the things I used to. They used to think of me as some sort of superhero and now I'm just their barmy mum who makes things explode when she tries to cook. I told you, I swear I told you before we got married, and you bet that I wasn't that bad, but I am."

"Is that what happened here?" Sam blinked. "An explosion?"

In response, Hermione sighed and punched the oven, making it quit its noise.

"We still think you're a superhero."

Hermione and Sam blinked and turned to look at the door, where Axel was grimacing and Grace was looking at her parents. Molly and Dean were hanging back, watching how this was going.

"Mum," Grace offered, "You've been through _dozens_ of wars and battles."

"You fought against angels," Axel continued, easing into the room, "And _won._"

"You're pretty cool, Granger," Dean said.

"Cool, Mummy!" Molly agreed.

"See?" Sam smiled, rubbing her back, "It'll be okay. I _promise._"

She sighed, nodding and leaning into Sam, "Alright. But I'm not cleaning."

"Aww, but Mum!"

"Come on, that's not even – do you see this?"

"Boom!"

Hermione laughed, shaking her head as Sam kissed the side of her head, tipping them over into the floor.

* * *

***squints* What did I just write? Idk. It's one of those days.**


	23. In Battle, Side-By-Side

**When you and a friend stay up until at least eleven quoting Disney movies then you and that friend are now good friends there is no going back sorry not sorry.**

* * *

_In Battle Side-By-Side_

"Uhh…who're you?" Sam questioned, a curly head popping up from behind a laptop screen, big brown eyes staring back at him, glasses perched on the end of her nose.

"Yeah, I think I'd remember you," Dean started to grin, Kevin rolling his eyes and waving vaguely in the woman's general direction as he stood.

"This is Hermione, she was our neighbor for a couple of years before she moved," he shrugged as he moved to grab more coffee, "She called, I told her what was going on, she offered to help."

"Look, ma'am, we appreciate the sentiment, but this isn't exactly something for civilians to participate in," Sam said as Dean snorted at his choice of words, mumbling something about cops as he moved to the coffee pot.

Hermione pursed her lips and arched an eyebrow, and Kevin visibly took several steps away from her, leaning away for safety as Dean eyed the kid's reaction. "I wasn't aware that I looked old enough for '_ma'am_,' but I suppose 'miss' is for younger girls."

Kevin began to grin, "Hermione isn't exactly a simple civilian either."

Hermione took her glasses off and leaned back in her chair, vanishing the glasses with a wave of her hand, not even blinking when the cool steel of a gun was pressed to the back of her neck, although Kevin tensed.

"Really?" she asked in dull amusement, grinning up at Dean, still seated, "If I wanted to hurt anyone, I easily could've. Now, do you want to hear what I have or not?"

Sam and Dean exchanged a glance before Dean slowly lowered the handgun, glaring at her as she turned back to the computer, tapping away before flicking dully, causing images to float in the air.

"Technological minor and magic," Kevin answered with a small, smug grin as the Winchesters blinked in surprise. "Practically Tony Stark."

"I've got more stuff on your boy by hacking into my government's database," she said, rubbing her neck and moving her shoulders around.

"Your government?" Sam questioned.

"Okay, if you didn't hear the accent, then – " Kevin was cut off by Sam's glare, covering his grin with his cup.

"UK government for normal people? No, but the UK government for people like me…yeah," she smiled as she paused with her shoulders hunched forward.

"There's more like you?" Dean frowned.

She shrugged, smiling as she piled her hair on top of her head, before it all came tumbling back down as she stretched her arms over her head, "Yeah, 'course. American witches and wizards aren't really witches and wizards – they bargained for power. Of course, there are institutes for magic in America, but usually the magic is carried by bloodlines, or created purely, from birth. Never begged and pleaded for."

"Institutes?" Sam questioned.

Hermione sighed and rolled her eyes, "We can have a cultural lesson later. In any case, he's trying to create an army with some left over Death Eaters, dark wizards from a war in my world, but he seems to have the same idea as that other bloke you took out with the Leviathans."

"Dick," the three men chorused, Hermione blinking and laughing a little before moving through the screens, Sam moving around to lean a hand on the back of her chair and see the information glowing back at him in the air.

"It won't end well," she said, leaning back and accidentally brushing her back against Sam's hand.

"What makes you say that?" Dean asked drily.

"He's Muggle," she answered plainly.

"Elaborate," Sam insisted.

"He's normal," she sighed, hugging her arms to herself, as if she were cold, "The Death Eaters hate Muggles, Muggleborns, people who are half Muggle and half Pureblood, they have a foul word for people who are Muggleborn or Halfblood."

"What's the word?" Dean questioned as Kevin grimaced and moved away.

Instead of answering, Hermione tugged her sweater sleeve up and bared her scarred arm, a word standing out against the pale skin, and quickly returned her sleeve back into place before going back to the screens as silence overtook the room.

"Anyway," she continued, "They'll probably kill him, unless he has something on them, and it makes me wonder how he even knows about them. Statute of Secrecy and everything."

"How're you telling us, then?" Sam questioned.

She gave a small smile, "Because the Minister for Magic is scared of me. As he should be – I saved his arse so many times, he owes me."

"The head of your secret government is scared of you?" Dean blinked.

"Hey," she grinned, "Just because he's the Chosen One or whatever rubbish, doesn't mean he's emotionless."

Sam glanced back at her arm before shaking his head and turning back to the screens, "So, do you have any useful information?"

She sighed, "That's where the technological minor and Advanced Ancient Runes classes should come in handy. As the Muggle world has modernized, so have some people of the Wizarding World. Whatever I can get here, it'll be scarce, but it'll hopefully be useful."

"So, wait, they encode magic in the internet?" Kevin blinked.

"Oh please, Kevin, there's magic everywhere," Hermione snorted and began to tap away on the keyboard, glasses materializing back on the bridge of her nose, "You'd have to be foolish to just ignore it."

"So how long will this take?" Dean questioned.

"Mmn…depends on how difficult these runes are," she murmured before she began to tap with renewed fervor on the keyboard, eyes flicking from screen to screen as Sam watched in admiration. "Not too difficult, I should think." Sam pressed his mouth shut tighter as a foreign rune danced across the screen, Dean's eyebrows creeping higher up as Kevin tried not to laugh into his coffee.

"Hermione," Dean said, "What's your IQ?"

"I don't quite know, haven't checked in a while," she said absently, still working furiously on the runes, "Why do you ask?"

"Just curious," he hummed.

"Alright!" she tapped her fingers triumphantly against the table with a grin, "It's something."

"What is it?"

"Name, rough estimate of age, looks," she said before blinking in surprise, "Holy shit."

"What is it?" Sam asked as Dean began to load bullets into his gun.

"This is the prince of Troy, during the Trojan War," she said in surprise, "Paris? This…makes no sense."

"Sounds like Death got bored," Dean sneered.

* * *

"Ahh, Miss Granger, lovely to see you again, would you like a sweet?"

Hermione scowled and settled her hands on her hips, the Winchesters and Kevin watching with interest.

"Death, I wish I could say I was happier with the circumstances," she answered.

"I wish I could as well," he nodded, "You're still alive."

She rolled her eyes and crossed her arms over her chest, "You know the problem."

Death arched his brows, "Do I?"

"Do I need your master down here? I still haven't brought up the Herbology essay in fifth year – he knows how to deal with you," she hummed.

Death glared and pursed his lips, "I had nothing to do with Paris."

"Then why is he alive?" she asked.

"Someone resurrected him," he answered plainly as he stood, "Someone else is behind this, and Paris is just a pawn."

"Do you have any idea who?" she asked.

"If I did, Miss Granger," he sneered, "I certainly wouldn't tell you."

"Oh, you're just like Snape," she sighed, rolling her eyes, "What is with you two and melodramatic moments? Is it the hair, is that what causes it? Maybe the sneer – try smiling more, Death, it'll certainly liven up your job."

He disappeared and she scoffed, turning back to the boys and frowning, "Well, that certainly doesn't help anything."

"At least we won't waste our time with this Paris guy," Kevin offered.

"But then we're back to square one," Sam frowned.

Hermione sighed and shook her head, "This just keeps getting weirder."

* * *

"Too weird, too _fucking weird_."

Hermione nodded her head, wand held tightly in her hand, eyes darting around as the black, moving shapes came closer to view, her back pressed against Sam's, Dean and Kevin and that angel guy far from view.

"Do you have any idea how to get out of this?" he asked desperately.

Hermione reached out and gripped his arm, panic swelling in her stomach when she came to the realization that she couldn't Apparate them out of there to somewhere safe when she felt the tug of a ward in place.

"Oh God," she sighed, releasing his arm, only to have hers gripped as he tugged her closer to him, possibly to keep her from getting hurt, as his side was advancing much faster. "Well, never thought I'd go out like this – closed in by shadows and pressed to a tall American. Actually, the thought never crossed my mind."

"Are you _ever_ not sarcastic?" he questioned.

"Sorry – I'm panicking," she admitted, worrying her lower lip.

"Hah!"

Hermione blinked as the lights flicked on, faces of her friends grinning back at her from where the shadows used to be, Dean and Kevin among them, Castiel standing in a corner and looking about as confused as Sam and Hermione did.

"What the hell just happened?" Sam questioned.

"Ehh, trust fall without the falling," Dean shrugged, patting Harry on the back as they both grinned.

"Whoa, whoa, you two know each other?" Hermione exclaimed.

"Yeah," Harry shrugged, "Went out to see what the big deal with these infamous American hunters were a few weeks ago, they were actually pretty cool and we kept talking once they didn't want to kill me."

"Found out that our sibling figures were nerdy, lonely, and sad and decided to have a little bonding exercise," Dean grinned wider.

"Harry mentioned me to Hermione and prompted her to call to check on me, and we made up the crap with Paris and the leftover Death Eaters," Kevin explained.

"I _am_ Death's master," Harry smiled, "He had to listen to me and play along."

"And, well," George grinned as Ginny sniggered, "We just wanted to play along and scare Hermione."

"I am so glad she didn't hex as all," Neville admitted with a sigh.

"Hey, glad Sammy didn't shoot," Dean chuckled.

"Erm…you two are being awfully silent and scary," Kevin pointed out as Harry blanched.

"Harry," Hermione began in a clipped tone, "Do you remember my job?"

"Uhm, well, I – " he faltered.

"I babysit your godson. I am living off what I make at the bookstore as I try to write my own books and sell. I dropped _everything_ to try to help them!" she snapped, "I dealt with Death again – you know how much we hate each other! I went all the way to America! This isn't something you can just brush off and laugh at and expect everything to be sunshine and daisies!"

"Yeah, we could've actually been working on a real case, doing some good, and instead you decide to play a practical joke on me," Sam glared.

"We were trying to set you two up," Dean mumbled while Castiel walked towards Luna and inspected her wand while she inspected his trench coat.

"There're demons and vampires that we could've taken care of, ghosts and ghouls and banshees we could've salted and burned, and instead you decide to plan this elaborate scheme and try to set up two strangers together!"

Once everyone looked properly mollified, Sam and Hermione shared glances before laughing, leaning into each other, everyone gaping once Sam pecked the top of Hermione's head and she wrapped her arms around his torso with a cheeky grin.

"We've actually been dating for three weeks – met online," Sam chuckled.

"Son of a bitch, you lying, cross-dressing whore!" Dean cursed, waving his hands around while Kevin blinked and turned to Sam in amusement, Hermione doing the same.

"You cross-dressed too!" Sam accused.

"One time!"

"Wasn't it twice?"

"Irrelevant!"

"You still did it more than me!"

Kevin, Hermione and Harry collapsed to the ground, clutching sides as they laughed, Castiel tilting his head and looking between the Winchesters in confusion.

* * *

**I dunno if they ever really cross-dressed the line just came to me and I went with it, it is now my new favorite curse.**


End file.
